this fucking love

it’s not really like me
to speak this way

i have always preferred
to civilize my suffering

to press it into beautiful language
where it could be mistaken
for art instead of ache

i learned long ago
how to make loneliness appear elegant

how to carry devastation
with composed hands
how to smile through exhaustion
how to turn silence
into something almost holy

i became very skilled
at surviving beautifully

but some loves
arrive like a hidden fracture beneath ice

silent at first
nearly invisible

until one day
everything beneath you gives way

and suddenly
there you are

standing inside the carefully ordered structure
of your own life
surrounded by rituals
responsibility
and the exhausting dignity
of self-containment

realizing your body
has begun longing again
against your permission

then someone enters your solitude gently

looks at you too carefully
learns your exhaustion by sight
touches you
as though your sadness
is something fragile enough
to deserve tenderness

so forgive me

this is not usually how i speak

but fuck

i saw the holiest parts of myself
ruined by this fucking love

not ruined like fire ruins a house
no
ruined the way salt ruins water
quietly
completely
until nothing inside you tastes the same again

God . .
what a vulgar miracle it is
to meet someone late in life
who reaches into you
like he has lived there before

i am not talking about lust

lust is a bright bird
striking itself against the dark glass of night
beautiful
frantic
gone by morning

i am talking about the terrible holiness
of someone learning your exhaustion by sight
of someone hearing the difference
between your public laugh
and the real one
of someone touching your leg
like he is trying to calm an animal
he does not want to scare away

this fucking love

has me feeling

like i could literally crawl out of my skin
carrying this ache in my chest
like contraband

at work
at stoplights
answering emails
pretending to discuss ordinary things
while internally
an entire cathedral is collapsing in slow motion

because the body knows

the body knows
when another body feels like home

and maybe that is the most frightening part

not that this love appeared
but that after all these years
all this surviving
all this pretending to be beyond devastation

still

i opened the door

to this fucking love