Attachment leads to suffering,
they say. And so, I will suffer.
Because how could I not
hold you—closely, tenderly—
a secret treasure
in the heart of my heart?
After a jagged rain, when
every dispirited cloud slips away,
revealing a forget-me-not sky,
it is not the sun, but you
enveloping me in a glow
of pure contentment.
And the handful of stars
that shine fiercest before dawn
pale in comparison
to the white-hot joy
of reaching out in the darkness
to find you there,
where you always are.
I cherish you because I must.
And, when, one day, we part,
I will suffer less, knowing
that breathless, clenching pain is
love, longing for a place to land,
and that everything
has always been as it should.
How could it have been otherwise?
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
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