The unconditional love
that he carried out daily for her
that he carried out daily for her
was an act of rebellion
in an often seemingly loveless world.
Who told them?
That she couldn't or shouldn't
be this or that,
That he had to become
so and so?
They transformed -
All that had to have been.
The fluffy sponges they wore,
bore the life they absorbed.
Should ordeals be wrung out?
Would this free up some space?
Could what they had experienced
indeed be replaced?
