The Lengths I Go To For You

Love is a small trench in a dirt road,

filled with water.

As our legs shake

we are branches in the wind,

my eyes catch you from the side.

You are looking at me as we walk,

our hands intertwined,

like the roots of an old tree.

We reach the trench,

our destination lying a ways beyond.

We have already walked five miles.

My legs feel numb.

I'm floating.

I muster my energy,

and my legs throw me into the air.

I’m flying,

hoping to land on the other side

of the little ocean.

I land like a crashing plane,

water covering my bottom half.

I didn’t make it.

You reach out your hand,

your arms are a belt around my waist.

Your lips touch my forehead,

they are a feather falling on the ground.

My body turns into burning lava,

at your touch.

Your hand cups my face,

I am the lock and you

are the key.

Love is not bruises on my arm,

or cat like scratches,

scattered on my torso.

It is not 4 a.m. arguments,

hitting each other with words made of stone.

I should not be scared to climb a tree,

shuttering at your touch.

You might push me.

Green grass, makes my thighs itch,

the sun burns my body.

I wear a dress that covers the marks,

your marks.

That make you look like you’re trying to escape,

Trying to escape my body. But I am not a trap.

My eyes gaze at you,

you are looking at her.

Her dress is shorter than mine,

She is loved.

Hair like a godess,

Eyes like caramel,

Her body an hourglass.

You were checking the time.

Love is looking in a mirror,

and accepting whatever stares back.

Love is climbing a tree,

seeing the beauty in what lies ahead.

Love is taking a needle to my thigh,

sewing in my scars.