Just what you mean to me.
Or how I’d hurt were you to suffer me
But see me not, unless of course you feel
Much as I do.
‘Tis no small thing to heal
My heart’s regrets with a sigh, to reach
Across the gap between our skins and teach
My soul to cry
Again. But then you’ll cut me.
That which heals also hurts. So flee me,
Fly from me when storms about me reel
Like ants drawn to a broken seal
On some great cask.
I hope that we two might each
Lean anew to hope and love. I beseech
You, stay if I am food to help you grow . . .
But if I’m poison, I pray that you will go.