She is the blood

She is the blood

Of my tears,

The salt on my skin.

Even the marrow

In my bones carries

Her memory.

When she is gone

My arms lie open,

Spread wide,

A crucifix

Without a cross.

I ache to

Carry the weight

Of her expectation,

It is a pain

Without burden.

Love is bare,

It can be selfless,

Simply divine,

With an absence of ego

Or self direction,

But it has a

Blind ambition

To succeed

And can stumble through

Rudimentary disguise,

Patchwork defence.

When resistance is low,

It is an umbrella

With little cover

From the storm,

But it can be a saviour,

A life saver.

Even as it breaks your heart.

It fans a flame

That feels just too much

To bear.

An inferno,

Almost too intense.

The heat sometimes

A little too close to burning

The flesh

From your bones.

And yet,

It has the power to unite,

Purify the soul,

Glorify the spirit

And conquer all.

It has conquered me.