How I adore you, truer than true,
And mere oceans canot speak of this vastness,
And I have hidden evidence in you,
The things that speak of my tongue in honesty
If you accept, gleefully, readily,
Whatever that is left.
And hurts are seas,
Their intrusion as beautiful as the coastlines,
As the skin are sands:
Let me crumble in you. Let me breathe
What deepest depths might you boast that I may drown,
Let the soles of my feet feel what permeates that darkness,
Let fall what might fall, my eyes awash,
As hurts are seas.
Let peel what might peel
Revealing colors of what blindness hid,
Mark into me as ageless wounds inflict the earth;
You prove me frail. Mere words —
Mere words could bring my very composure to shambles;
Mere whispers could stop this heart; it tires,
But not before racing,
Racing, racing, to keep up, it tries
But no, no human was built for this,
Not a creature created to contain this.
And should you ask me if I felt sadness, my love,
What do you think would be my answer?
By your voice shaped to such inquiry, I
Might be driven to dazed silence,
I cannot respond as such,
But I’ve had my years of feeling broken,
And you made for it with touch.
— A. P.