i ask that you hold my tattered heart gently

and that you stand with me in the wind

so as to tether me to something

beating

i ask you to see

the rips and the holes and the rough edges

sometimes peering at them closely

sometimes from afar

bringing salve to open wounds

and light to dark

i ask you to be real

love

to not expect a heart not battered

by storms and swells

by fallow and failure

to not expect a heart not swollen

by riptides and windshear

by tears and deluge

by uninhibited adoration

by wavering pride and ever-present bootstraps

i ask you not to be reckless

it is more fragile than you realize

and stronger than i imagine

and its wrinkles in time

mark life

and land next to my eyes

where you can see if i laughed

or cried

and i am again open to float

to feel the passing seasons

and to hold the passion of the sun

and the cool rest of the night sky

it is not threadbare

it is merely tattered

yes

but it is whole

in its ragged

and alive

and beating

with yours

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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