I would have created an entire planet for you
Out of bleeding hands and coarse stone
Out of melted diamonds and theoretical physics
And entire planet, no more ash and suffering
Just mountains to move and forests to nurse and grow
Love became deeper than anything I could possibly imagine
Love was expansive and automatic
I didn't try to love you
Not to say that it wasn't worth the time or effort
I walked long miles for loving you
Long loops around parks and fields and cities
Loving you was another thread woven through my life like so many others
It was broken, though
Tattered and frayed and mismatched
You probably don't get what I'm saying at this point
I'm saying that I loved you,
And I'm not even sure if the past participle is appropriate in this case
You see, in all of the running away from the fire and the falling buildings
I was still looking for you, dragging all of my broken bones behind me
I was looking for all of the times you were beautiful before the fire started
It was the slowest burn, watching sparks jump to one tree at a time
I had no hold on you when we ran in different directions
Our footsteps held sparks that burnt down so many forests
But I would have built an entire planet for you
I would have built you a house out of concrete that couldn't catch
But you never asked, and you left me in the forest