Only you, darling
could make me dance
that ancient, almost forgotten waltz
of self doubt and hatred.
Only you, love
could make me move
digging my fingernails into flesh, available
in a way I have not in months.
Only you, gorgeous
could make me speak
freeing my tongue and breaking down
long-hardened walls, and then shut me up again.
Only you, bird
could make me sing
songs I had stopped, of my love for you
and songs I had almost forgotten, of my abhorrence for myself.
Only you,
darling, love, gorgeous, bird,
only
ever
you.