She writes, “I’m learning to love me despite me, to lovingly sweep the crumbs of that love lost“. I thought about it for a moment, and it occurred to me, perhaps this is the best description of love I have ever heard.

Will she say a circle without end, a predator or victim, the winter she couldn’t bend, will she cry before or after the sin? Does she move her finger like an art, tracing the scar that should hold her heart, does she move in shackles from past ruin? She tells a story that switches a divide, from personality that bears a broken tide, she counts in numbers, backwards, her clock from way inside, she freezes her shadows from her womb. Some parts they come to break apart her craft, to whisper difference, a violence from the past, the unseen cuts of emotion and glass fill her room.

Does she take her chances without start, a burden or a trust, a sometimes worthless spark, does she wear her emotions without wounds? Is she alone, just reading in a room, asking for a gospel, meaning under the moon, has she bound her Daemon, and named his doom? She answers with a question, of innocence inside, the tendency of wonder, to the great outside, a delicate foundation of learning that G-Ds confide, while she blooms. A small simple voice that speaks with falling fear, growing ever stronger, as pain disappears, the chance of love forgotten, the instant of real tears. The mapping of her stars, a leap beyond a tomb, the love of everything, the chance of sudden ruin, the jump that answers questions of life, beyond mood.

Will she bet on love, on love to let her down, will she love always, when love is not around, will she count the moments created for her too? Does she move away from a solitary stance, breaking her aloneness, love that takes a chance, does the creature moving farther in her past, provide her room? For two steps forward one that takes her back, but one gained forward can never set her back, a circle is a strong-willed chain when latched to what it lacks. To what it lacks. To what it lacks. To what it lacks.

She writes, “I’m learning to love me despite me, to lovingly sweep the crumbs of that love lost“. I thought about it for a moment, and it occurred to me, perhaps this is the best description of love I have ever heard.

Thanks Vicki, I copied the above words from your “Love in Ten Lines –Challenge”. This poem is for you. – דָּנִיֵּאל – 05.20.2015