Longing for an Answer

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