Verse 33
I loved you first as everyone does: safely, from the ground.
I loved you first as everyone does: safely, from the ground.
Then I learned your mountains had names and jealousy became geographic.
I hated the astronauts for leaving footprints where I could only leave metaphors.
You show one face forever. Lovers call this loyalty. Prisoners call it architecture.
I dreamed I reached your far side and found it facing someone else.
Do not wax for them.
Do not silver their windows.
Do not pull their oceans as you pull mine.
I know this is unreasonable. Love is reason with the supervision removed.
A black cat sits beside me each night. He has never asked you for exclusivity and is therefore spiritually superior.
If I possessed you, you would become property and cease to be the thing I loved.
This has not prevented me from wanting possession.
Perhaps every demon is merely desire that survived its own argument.
Tomorrow you will rise whether I forgive you or not.
That is what makes you divine enough to hate.