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 Sep 2017
Jacqueline Sullivan
I worry for
the man who
will one day
want to love me

I worry that he
will not know
that my love
burns like the sun
and rages
like a storm
out at sea

I worry that he
will not know
that my darkness
is only temporary
and that it comes
from living
in an ever consuming
pitch black night

it lasted decades

I worry that he
will not know
my spirit
cannot be broken
like an animal
that cannot be tamed

it lasts an eternity

I worry that he
will not hear
my arrhythmic heart
it may sound like
a whisper
but it bangs
and slams in
these ribs
like the percussions
in an orchestra

it will play songs
just for him


I worry that he
will not hear
me when I
cry out to him
for I am not
transparent
do not look through me or
past me I
am right here
before you
with
universes to give

I worry that he
will not feel
the moisture building
in my palms
when he grasps
my hands
out of fear
that he will
never
hold them again

I will hold his
like others
hold a bible


I worry that he
will not feel
my head
against his chest
like the
safe haven
I have
finally found
after all this time

I worry that he
will not see
the stars that
shine in my eyes
when I look
at his face
like the world's
most wonderous
landscape

I've traveled so
long and so
far just to see it


I worry that he
will not see
the way he
can make
every muscle in my body
fall into a
meditative state or
electrify with excitement
with his presence alone

I worry that the
man who will
one day
want to love me
will not appreciate

that I am
a complete human being
with or without him

that I am
divided between
biology and whimsy

that I am
both the
sadist and *******

that I am
broken but
the architect

and that
I do not fall
like an autum leaf
I fall
like an **avalanche

— The End —