What You’ve Given Me

So much do I owe
for what you’ve given me
allowing me to love you, being loved by you.

No, no, not the obvious:
Your honey scented kisses
Olive-black eyes
Slender Helen-like neck
Breath dew-laden as you sleep, I lying next to you
Lips pink and sweet as rose petals
Pianists fingers on my arm
‘Can I kiss you ?’
Not even your rapid breathing as we made love, you whispering
‘Close, I am close !’

No, my love
my dear friend
woman whom I’ve known for days, for centuries.
I thank you for allowing me
the bitter taste of hopelessness as, without a touch, what was is cleaved
a touch is all I asked for, is what you promised;
the feel of a love’s lost shattered heart, once strong now silently weeping;
the smell of the burned soul of one left behind, surrounded, alone;
the sound of agony’s howl whipping through oak branches, this thing I’ve become I no longer recognize;
the touch of the emptiness, the nothing left me
all that is left me, The Nothing.

This you have given me
and with love – all the love I have ever had for you – I accept it
embrace it,
will not run from it
Pain that tells me: you once loved and were loved.

So much do I owe
for what you’ve given me
allowing me to love
you
and be loved by you
So much
do I
owe

1 November, 2013

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