How can I know
if I love you?
Don’t I just love love itself?;
the aching, burning longing, the
gentle rush of wind as it settles
somewhere deep inside.
I have reached into the cavity of my chest,
fingers bloodied and sore,
tried to find it with my own hands,
but there was nothing there.
How can I know if I love you?
Something simmers when you go
and there’s someone else
when I look into the mirror
and you are not beside me - then
the earth turns, and God, I can feel it,
I feel it all so deeply that it hurts,
so I hold on tight
and I write and I write,
asking every God I’ve never believed in
to just let me keep this one, this time.
I don’t know if I think it makes any difference.
I don’t know why I still ask
when I think I know the answer.
How can I know
if
I love you