When it comes to love, I carry my fire,
Longing without demand, without desire.
I won't mistake want for a right to claim,
I won't bend the world or assign it blame.
I keep the parts that hurt, the parts that sting, I won't erase a note in my own song to sing.
She lives in my landscape, a brush, a hue, A memory, a wish, a standard I pursue.
Not a promise, not a plan, not a place to land, But an art I hold gently in my hand.
I keep the part of me that wanted it to last,
A heartbeat of present, a shadow of past.
This is my compass, my steady guide,
It keeps me awake, it keeps me alive.
It keeps me honest, it keeps me true,
It keeps me human in all I do.
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 9:03 AM UTC
When it comes to love, I carry my fire,
Longing without demand, without desire.
I won't mistake want for a right to claim,
I won't bend the world or assign it blame.
I keep the parts that hurt, the parts that sting, I won't erase a note in my own song to sing.
She lives in my landscape, a brush, a hue, A memory, a wish, a standard I pursue.
Not a promise, not a plan, not a place to land, But an art I hold gently in my hand.
I keep the part of me that wanted it to last,
A heartbeat of present, a shadow of past.
This is my compass, my steady guide,
It keeps me awake, it keeps me alive.
It keeps me honest, it keeps me true,
It keeps me human in all I do.
