How can they love
you, funny face, so
clumsy with words, clumsier
still with heart, always
spilling about like a
river with no bed, rough and
cussing about its edges, but
how can a river have edges when
it yet roars and trembles in
every direction, shapeless as the
space you try to call home.

but there are no boundaries
to trace the lines of feeling
safe, a place to
sleep and be whole

How can they love a broken,
how could they love you


9/21/17