weary, worn-thin it is whispered again in the dark--
how do i ever learn to love any less?
and without leaving me lonely-unanswered,
it is whispered back
when the tears have stopped--
I never ask you to love any less; only more, always more.
I ask you to love so deeply that all you can do is let go.
I ask you to take hold of all the love in your locked up heart
and pour it out to me.
And then every tender drop of it I will pour into him.
Your love is never wasted.