​
i do not love you for your                                                
strength and grit, for your set jaw,
for the hard cartography of your knuckled
fist. i do not love you for your
sharp corners.
i rub your tensed wrist like
a pliant mouth, i wait for spread
fingers and vulnerable palm: a
hollow nest to dream in.
i want the hurt you soother like an
ulcer in your mouth, your night terror,
your ra-eyed vulnerability: these
unarmored parts which
are mine alone.
darling, you are not at war.
slow down, breathe deep, drop your guard.
no one is chasing you but me.