Allowing for her
Allowing for her love to be
With him, for him, of him
He questions it – turns it about in his mind,
His heart – inspects it – a delicate shell of glass
Coiled spiraling brittle in and in on itself
The simplest pressure shattering it to pin-thin
Fragments needling in to wound unseen
The wholeness of it – its weight posed on that brink of something
Nothing
Surprises him.
She offered it and placed it between them, balanced
Resting on the too-thin glass
On either side the void, the depths of losing
Losing each other and loving lost
A silent drop too deep to hear the
Echoed ring of contact
He sees her
Thinks he sees her
Doesn’t know.
Distorted, blurred by fingerprints of touch
Upon the glass of them
The weight of almost-loss and love
Begins to crack the pane of feeling
Resting on their edges
But centre holds – the spider web of fractures not yet there
And through the window of his life he sees,
Before it shatters, everything they are
Perfection.
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