Learning to love differently is hard
Love with the hands open, love
With the doors banging on their hinges
The cupboard unlocked, the wind
Roaring and whimpering in the rooms
Rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
That thwack like rubber bands
In an open palm.
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth...
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing...