because it should be said

 

my passion knows nothing
except its own thirst.
i am drunk on it, from it,
because of it. everything
i am reaches for you –
i wait. i love. i need.
you are worth every hour,
every question.
you are worth needing,
beyond the why and how.
you are worth loving
because i love you.
your name is the clock
i’ve set my heart to.

i offer you a hand.
then, everything else.
i am not maybe. i am should.
i am yes. i am yours.
this is an invitation. i suggest
you do not run. i suggest
you get undressed.
give me what i am asking
for, take what is offered you –
skin and flint, a body
made of promises, a love
that fights and forgives.

my passion knows nothing
except its own thirst,
but love is far more dangerous,
it is a knife-edge, a balm,
a reason, a wildfire; it is
divinity without chains.
it does not know its own hunger,
or its own weakness. it has no needs,
desires, or demands.
it simply, perfectly or imperfectly, is.

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