I know that desperate look in your eyes,
I too have felt it in my heart,
it weighs upon you, in your gut,
like an indigestible pit.
That perhaps you were a fine wine,
but you have been swirled and spit.
Who would want to drink that?
But if you imagine yourself to be,
jumped upon,
but ready and poised to spring back,
you can anthropomorphize,
a trampoline.
And if you would let me,
I would dance upon your springs all night,
I would trust you not to throw me down,
but to catch me and cradle me just right.
Your pain doesn’t scare me,
it only makes me want to heal you,
and your wounds don’t disgust me,
I only want to be near you.
