wet with tears
we spoke gently of fear.
fear:
of not being able to 'do it' alone
of loosing my best friend
of causing irreparable hurt
of the longing ....
fear:
of never finding a love like this again
of the meaning being taken away
of the light disappearing
never being lit again.
separating intertwined paths
untangling thick webs of relation
leaves
weak legs, soft boundaries, constricted throat
so much naked vulnerability and long silences
comforting hands and murmuring 'my dears'
tears and sighs and long-distant stares.
i am forced to believe
that there is, somewhere, a light
that can not be turned off
no matter who, or when, or how
the door closes shut.
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