word made flesh 2

rediscovered this old poem today in my journal… from the days, 9 years ago, when  i was falling in love with don.

you crush my fantasy

of self-sufficiency

my overwhelming need for solitude

overridden by your touch upon my back

the deepest breath of prayer

that brings me to my center

cannot reach my depths

as does this breathing in of you

no.

 Love cannot whisper Her desire for me

lest i begin to hear

Her hope, revealed by your divine lips

a fantasy you whisper

as i hold my fear-filled breath

yet your surprising sentiments

infiltrate these ancient walls

where no self-indulgent disregard may trample

this garden where i swing, i fly, i laugh

i marvel

at how you were granted invitation

as you push me higher

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