these hands were not made
to secretly smother such a sweet breath
to choke love until it is grey
hopeful seed never meant to rupture
tiny shoot stretching toward the sun’s glory
such beauty does not even know it is barren
I cannot tend you
even though you are mine
———–
rhon drinkwater © 2008
I really love this poem. Especially the last line. “I cannot tend you even though you are mine.”
It’s haunting.