All your wounds, I want
to kiss them, all the places
chafed, strafed, shattered,
clawed at or raw. Anywhere
you’ve bled, I will mingle my blood
with yours. Wherever you are sore,
let me knead you. Wherever you ache,
I offer balm. Let me cradle you,
hold you, hum to you, know you.
I cannot heal you, can’t whole you,
can’t help. But I can love you
in your brokenness. Now is the time
for love. No one can love without
breaking, dear. Come. The flowers
are fading. We’re all we have.