Tell me about the uncle
your family doesn’t talk about,
I say, as night sighs
Tell me your favorite childhood
memory. What was your first
biggest fear? What did you think
love meant the first time you said it?
Tell me where you come from.
I know there are places in you
where no light shines.
I have crawled into those places
with a candle, and made myself
at home among the dead that hide
there. This is where I find comfort.
Tell me where you think fear goes
when morning hugs the horizon.
Tell me where you think light goes
when fear kisses it into submission.
I don’t know what love is anymore.
Someone I admire once said
they think it means “Don’t leave me
here alone.” I don’t want you
to leave me here alone
and if you can promise me
that’s what love means,
I’ll tell you I love you
and I’ll mean it.