It’s a cavity.

Hollow some days

Filled with daisies the next

And then

They rot.

And everything is obscure.

I fall in love with the forbidden ones, you see.

Age, language, occupation, religion,

The mountains I climb

I climb and reach

The top

The height of my love

Which I do not conquer.

Why this effort? The exhaustion, the heartbreak.

For I am love and

Love has me.

And most days

Most days

That’s enough.

And some days…

The moon and dark night know.

My companions

They know.

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© Copyright 2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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