Mind the space, so long endured,
it’s best for our protection.
I hope it’s true, for if it’s not
a thousand loves have I betrayed.
Look closer, dear,
a voice it sings as if it was a lullaby.
But if I heed it may become
the lure of my demise.
In fear, we come together
seeking a place of refuge.
In fear, we keep the space
lest our refuge become our captor.
The moments of sweetness
so easily discarded
when danger calls from
the abyss between the two.
Do not push away love’s hand
in punishment for what it cannot give.
Together, we bypass the gap
which is as deep as it is old.
Forget the chasm
so jaded with angry dreams.
Our fear is empty-handed.
Love’s hand has room for the other.
