What is Love But the Freedom to Ask It?

I wake up

to a world with no ground to hold me,

to hold my heart in stages

until it reaches me for ages,

glances,

beams,

and holds me, just me,

by the hand.

 

 

 

I wake up

to a place of no joy,

where in the best of times

the floor is my closest friend,

bearing the weight of me.

 

 

 

until that fit-full day

where I step upon the stool,

and float forever above it.