a woman


sometimes -
sometimes, she struggles,
not to desire
so very much;
not to love,
and more elusive still,
she labours not to love so very much
not to inhale too deeply -
so when that first breath does come
her inspiration
will not be
small whisps of clouds,
that danced upon tall summits;
when it comes at all.

to love so much,
she trusts.
Trusts that even with closed eyes
on her darkest nights a radiant
red light will softly

dwell upon her sleeping eyes and enfold

itself around her,
that she may embrace
and abandon herself in the
exquisite pain
of her wide open soul
once
again.

she seeks to shield
herself away
from this love but,
she cannot
remember how and so,
she goes
from day to day -
with heart
exposed, embracing gracious trees,
gazing on her radiant moon,
understanding
passions of the sea,
loving her earth, with a joy
that makes her ache

and Loving a man
for all
that he
is, for all that he
will never be
with all
of herself
and
loving a man...
and somedays,
she wishes -
wishes it all away