At times I catch a poignant moment,
When your breath touches me
with tragic tenderness.
I fear my eventual loss.
Sometimes I am a hummingbird
pecking in vain at a giant sequoia,
knowing I can never really enter.
How I wish to be part of you!
Sometimes I feel shame,
knowing you would see me
at my grossest, my dumbest,
my numbest, and my most peculiar.
But love is never as aesthetic or as sterile
as we desire.
The grime and the torture are where love lies.
Lasting love belongs to only
the strong of will, those who lack fear
of the lonely nights in which we
must face our dark reflections.