Let my love for you be peaceful. I do not want it to shatter your glass ceilings or roar oceans worth of might. I want it to knock you, peacefully. Almost like you wanted it.
I do not want it to brush against your cold, numb fingers. No. I will stay away. I have better things to do. But I want it to yearn for me.
So everytime we meet, I will stir in you something that will look forward for me. And you will wait for them - those encounters- one heartbeat after another.
You will wait for them as you slowly unveil your stone heart and show me it was the stone-coloured sky. And your clouds were full and waiting to pour.
But truly, they were waiting for me all along. And so I let them weep. They bursted open and drenched both you and I.
I found a shelter for both of us so you wouldn't fall sick. I made sure you ate so we wouldn't tire ourselves. I kept you safe. I kept you warm. And out of you came everything that was once dormant.
I told you, my love for you would be quiet. And now after your crying spells, I hope you have found yourself.
You are not a stone cold heart. You are only unprocessed grief which turned into numbness. You are deeply buried anger which needed a tug.
All you needed was somebody to walk in with a shovel.
That was all I did.
And when you thought you did not have the energy, I carefully took the shovel back.
May 2023
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