Musings on personal growth, books, motherhood, writing, and more.
Entreaties will not swindle me again.
Those clouds are yours, not mine, and at their gray,
cloaking shadows, I end and you begin.
I see, now that I’m grown, this is my skin;
I need to be the molder of my clay,
not twisted by your hands, not trapped within.
Love alone is good; joined with need, it’s sin.
This symbiosis slowly kills its prey;
Only its end will let us each begin.
This is my untangling. We can’t win
life’s race three-legged. I break away—
but fear you’ll fall; still, I’m trapped within.
No. I release you to your horizon,
while I follow my own. We’ll know, this way,
where one of us will end and one begin.
We’ll find untangled love frees us within.