if his love danced
in romantic tones
and heartfelt song
he has no language
no words to describe
beyond survival
and necessity
the love he
holds in his
worn and worried
heart -
I've had to sense it
uncover it
It had to be felt.
I found meaning
outside of the
literal interpretations
of abrupt speech
and long silences.
There were no
words used wastefully,
in spurts of
emotional wind
he uses no breath
excessively.
Perhaps romance
is for those
who have time.
He speaks of his first
and last
love
as if she
was born of his
heart
Inseparable
intolerable
one and the same
it is confluence
without
codependence.
I had to learn love
in actions
in crinkled smiles
in lasting impacts of
fleeting, fragile emotion.
Love existed because
they made it so
in ways permanent
and necessary
as the food and drink
they offered freely.
In his recliner
next to her bed
they sleep
and will sleep
because rest escapes him
when she is not there.
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