crux

we made plans,

we built them high in the sky.

it wasn't me.

how can i say, i'm not there yet--

i love you, i love you, i love you.

in a nuclear way.

the father of my children

the man at the altar.

i love you

in a sunday morning pancake way.

wearing your t-shirt and boxers

and licking each other's noses.

i came to love you

in a forced compassion,

that bled into pity.

i love you, but i find it hard to paint you.

and my fingers don't dance along phrases

like they do for intimate strangers

i imagine i know.

or even for those

who spat in my eyes

and tore my guts.

i love you, but i screamed at you.

because you responded to my mind

in banal, comforting words

instead of indulging it's tempest..

so it turned on you.

i can see you

in the most brilliant golden light.

and i will tell them all,

you were perfect.

that you bandaged me up,

and gave me your life.

loved me all over.

but would never have understood.

never been enough.

i think that's the crux.