It’s the childish way I reach for you
That I know you
Feel me.
It’s the truth of your lips
That I know I
Feel you.
This passing of time
The ninth, tenth, thirtieth, eighty-seventh
Day.
I fear
To lose you
Not to another but
to the world though
truthfully I fear both.
I see God’s hand of love
For me in my heart for you
That it grows.
I’m dreaming
How far we can run
But I want you
to fly.
I want you
To fly but I’m holding your hands
To my own unpaved land.
The truth so bare
Like your shoulders
My words and my hands
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