OF ONE TRUTH I AM SURE

To love is to ache. To weep
and when you are finished

to weep some more. To love
is to keep a candle burning
through the windiest night.

It is to pour the self into
concept. To tether with
invisible strings. I love you
and that is why I hurt.
I am tugged all over.

I hurt because you are the
one for whom I would keep
the windows open. For you
I would light the wick

and let the wind do
what wind does best,

for you only.

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