The Love that Won’t Let Go
It utterly amazes me that we can still love the same
raw way we did back when we were both less tired,
less torn up by the falling down lives we’re acting out.
Whatever magic your eyes let go in the dark barroom
a quarter century ago, still has power over my breathing
and your strong hands always find what belongs to you.
From the screaming passion that turns physical
to the hushed relief in a hospital room the day after
I tried to leave my life because you had led the way.
I can’t say why we are tied together; karma or
willed by some god, or the destiny we’ve chosen
for ourselves: to love the other to a strange madness
that is always undoing itself, spiting it’s own validity.
But I cannot unlove your eyes that are home to me.
I return to you like a warm fire on a bitter night.