I cling to old scars
as new ones appear.
I dissolve beyond doubt
into a clearer uncertainty.
I give my own shadow
a piece of bread
believing she is more destitute
than I, as she drags along the ground
in utter darkness. Love is not
a lesson one must come to terms with,
nor is it a hidden sacrifice,
there are more than enough
alternate illusions to fall prey to.
Love is beyond acceptance,
beyond whatever we feel is ours.
It's troubling to hear such words.
We stand bewildered. In a flux
between grief and joy.