Sharp

There’s something sharp
about the way I love you.

The charred edges,
jagged cuts
inside
clean holes,
they fit with wire claws.

This love,
it breaks me
into finite sand,
slicing
at my persistence,
yet I endure.

I hang on,
fingers bleeding,
clinging
to this razor love,
this poignant pain
that traverses my insides.

And I am still yours.

Despite the agony,
I am always yours.

~Patience

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