Work for Love
Loving you, as impulsive as I am, as premeditated and thoughtful as you are
Seems, almost dangerous
Almost, lunatic
But I can’t stop wanting the best for you and what we’ve created
Can’t stop, wanting, only, this beautiful union that could last a lifetime
But when we hurt, together
I miss the caution signal
I slip, falling victim to anger
Then to isolation, to hurt, again, and finally, regret
My body trembles in sweat, due to the overheating of itself
It trembles, in thought of losing you
And at times my conscious tells me you’d be better this way
That you’d prosper elsewhere
That my immature misogyny pursues this love for selfish consumption
Instead of our happiness
I feel at war with the idea that my love for you could be founded on a need to control
I hate that an analysis of my nature could reveal this
When in reality, I feel as though we uplift each other in times of joy
Support, love making, and educating
I know and feel that you are the sole recipient of the adoration of my spirit
And though guilt offers reflections of how I skew that truth when we disagree
I understand that it is all apart of the process
It is work, like fall leaves awaiting their rake, the fight for equality
But you, you are the goal, like the promise land, the keeper’s failure to protect the net
To support you, to be in sync with your love’s dialect, is why I work
Loving you is the only perfection I yearn to achieve
Such as fraternals or identicals existing close within the womb
I feel, the way in which I am wrapped tight alongside your most precious and soulful
I feel, the way in which your love communicates to my heart
