My love—if then “my love” you truly are—
I cannot help but temper hastiness.
For though I trust intention’s true, alarm
Begins to grip my timid heart, unrest
Un-wits my soul with bitter taste of loves
Which I have suffered times, and lost. The fear;
The simple panic; tightened, children’s gloves
Upon my woman’s hands, constrain me here.
But fear—it is a monster of the mind.
The wall we build to heal ourselves, and keep
From meeting heartache once again. But dark-
Ness past may not a darker future find.
I will, for you, un-paralyze my feet.
I will, for you, un-paralyze my heart.