My dear beloved,
May love and death
Be synonymous,
If confronting both
Is to plunge yourself
Into the deepest waters
Of uncertainty,
The tender of one,
Silken, stringed
Pried and tugged–
And torn at the seams,
To have the sea
Glean all there is left
To give
From your soul.
To persist through the
Brackish, turning waters,
To watch him salvage the fragments,
Crippled in the waves,
To take
All you have given.
The swells and sways
Of old luxuries
Are lost among him,
For his nails are knives;
To prevail is to want him
To shudder
Before he claims
His right to finality.