What is...
What is...
It seems strange to me that I must append codicils
when I tell someone that I love them.
"love, a word I don't toss about lightly,
neither do I keep it locked away.
Nor do i intend it to mean more
than makes you comfortable."
Or, "Please forgive me, I love you."
Or, "I hope you don't mind if i say
a prayer for you."
"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable,
but you are amazing."
What if i don't know what love is?
When, every day, your partner leaves her dirty breakfast dishes
because she is running late (again),
is it love not to be angry?
And even to do them yourself - not because they are in your way,
or because you are anal,
but because you would rather do them so that she doesn't have to.
Of course I love her.
She actually allows me
to get close enough
to touch
her.
Of course I love her.
Would one give up one's own life for one's beloved?
Of course.
Although that treads dangerously near the precipice
of monstrously low self esteem,
"Of course, anyone's life is worth more than mine
because I don't know what love is.
So I can't love
myself,
and if I can't love
myself,
how can I love
another?"
I am not bad person
like a thief
or murderer.
I am pained
at the thought
of paining another.
I have loved before.
But where are they now?
Are they gone because
I didn't know what I was doing?
"Please forgive me, I love you.
Though I don't know what that means"
But I am working on it.
copyright 2007 Deborah Bolle
It seems strange to me that I must append codicils
when I tell someone that I love them.
"love, a word I don't toss about lightly,
neither do I keep it locked away.
Nor do i intend it to mean more
than makes you comfortable."
Or, "Please forgive me, I love you."
Or, "I hope you don't mind if i say
a prayer for you."
"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable,
but you are amazing."
What if i don't know what love is?
When, every day, your partner leaves her dirty breakfast dishes
because she is running late (again),
is it love not to be angry?
And even to do them yourself - not because they are in your way,
or because you are anal,
but because you would rather do them so that she doesn't have to.
Of course I love her.
She actually allows me
to get close enough
to touch
her.
Of course I love her.
Would one give up one's own life for one's beloved?
Of course.
Although that treads dangerously near the precipice
of monstrously low self esteem,
"Of course, anyone's life is worth more than mine
because I don't know what love is.
So I can't love
myself,
and if I can't love
myself,
how can I love
another?"
I am not bad person
like a thief
or murderer.
I am pained
at the thought
of paining another.
I have loved before.
But where are they now?
Are they gone because
I didn't know what I was doing?
"Please forgive me, I love you.
Though I don't know what that means"
But I am working on it.
copyright 2007 Deborah Bolle
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