On this,
the day of martyred lovers
I recall a misunderstood comment.
“One day I’ll see you live”
it said.
Of course it meant live, as in music.
But the former struck a chord in me.
To live in place of existing
To BE and not to be.
There isn’t a question
that this is what we will
for those we love unconditionally.
Imagination is distilled experience.
Expression of essential natures
exhibits intimacy intensely.
Earnestness earned less rudely,
more conscientiously chosen.
The resulting constraints are the price of those decisions.
But to you I still wish the freedom
to truthfully tell how you feel
instead of fearfully throwing up shields.
One day I’ll see you live.
