My mind knows that I am free but
My heart understands that it is
Held in his sweet hands, like he holds
Air, oblivious but always
Present, around him like a sheet.
If  he but knew what love there is
About him, he'd never worry
Of worth, nor can its source deplete.
To him, I am a passing thought;
To me, he is the restless night
Of flashing emotions flooding
Through me, of anguish and delight.
I cannot explain this senseless
Tug that binds me so snug to him.
However, its knot cannot be
Undone; the heart is not the brain.