One Kind of Love

 

I tell you my life is a vat

of oil, the kind that

hardens in the cold

and I am the thin layer

of condensation on top

slowly evaporating.

 

You tell me that your life is a marsh

that you are food for the schools

of unseen creatures below

devouring you bit by bit by bit,

that nobody told you reeds

and cattails could steal your

fantasies and braid them into traps.

 

I am the net that will skim you into safety.

You are the mirror I cling to.