love needs the light.

its like I loved,

in a dark place.

she was my heart,

before her I didn’t know

I had one. she grew there,

in my chest, like a feathered

thing, a beating drum,

and she showed it to me.

she showed me what a heart

is. she showed me

and I learned

and I surpassed her.

 

she left me,

in a dark place.

when she left I

perceived

she took the light

with her, and I was alone.

and I still had my heart,

which was her

and it ached

in the absence of her.

and it beat sluggishly,

inconsistently,

intermittently.

I could feel it in my chest,

hear it in my skin,

the flutter of it’s magnanimity,

made me worry.

 

I forgave her,

and I blamed her,

and I bade her,

return to me.

but only silently,

and she,

she never did,

until I had become

happy,

and she sad

and I was moved on.

 

and then she wrote,

me claimed love

for me, spoke

love for me,

achingly,

wantingly,

and I was angry,

and I was pain,

and I was scared,

and I refused her.

 

and I left her

in a dark place.

get out, I said,

yourself.

I did.

 

and when she’d gone

silent I remembered

how I loved,

how my heart,

beat as her,

personified as her,

and that I loved her.

 

and how it just wasn’t

enough, to love

in the dark. love

needs light

to grow.

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