POSSIBLE THOUGHTS, BUT NOT
We brush so lightly, or we clutch so hard,
though brushing leaves us empty, and clutchings
bring cold fear. We know our love is scarred
by lacerations, still the light touchings
are too little. We have no place to rest
between a gentle warmth and heavy heat
that suffocates the joy, and takes the best
that brought our lives from barren, cold retreat
to where we risk our battered hearts. Let's see
if we can find embraces that complete
and supplement, yet leave us sometimes free.
It's self-sufficiency we crave and fear.
Let's permanently grasp it now, my dear
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