Sanguine Daydream

I cannot yet understand
the way love builds
the way love is
the way it hurt to walk ten feet to type this,

opposite of the joy with which my folks take photos
of themselves smiling, by the lighthouse, at dusk.

The way someone forces you to build yourself,
the way someone forces you to see a family,
a love that I cannot understand but feel
in my gut each lonely night, holding out for
nothing short of impossible beauty;

I cannot yet understand
the way love builds
the way love is
the way hurt builds in me to test my patience for
the way that I may be patient with the one
I love.

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