Delicate

We have learned to lean against each other lightly.
That is apt to be all we will ever do. I'm not sure
What she needs from me. She'll never say, but
I suspect it's simply knowing that I love her.
I, in turn, need everything, beginning with a
Reason to believe I ought to stay alive, and her
Need is what gives me that. We're joined, a pair
Of wounded creatures, one of whom, I know,
Would fall without the other, maybe two.
Delicately brought together, always at the
Risk of something, someone, pulling us
Apart, we lightly lean, aware that that is
All we'll ever do.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 46 times
Written on 2015-07-02 at 16:13

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