When we’re together
it’s like we go to our
little custom-made world
to the size and specifications
of our personal pleasures and needs
and no one else exists,
just you and me.
I stay up late on nights
just to meet you there
and maybe you agree
it’s easier to handle life
when we’re in that place,
where my soft laughter
can shift the mountains
of your many worries
and my soothing touch
tends lovingly
the mustard seeds of faith
you’ve sown in your soul.
Maybe you agree
you can be yourself with me
not only because in my presence
you can,
but also because you want to.

But that world
can’t sustain us
outside of its walls
both of us have to make a living,
pursue our dreams,
feed our children,
and keep the fire burning
in relationships with people
that are more real
than you or I
to each other
in that they are more tangible;
in that at some point
in our past, at least,
we could touch them,
literally touch them

(and it’s not worth telling you
my tears and weaknesses
and bodily hurts
are just as literal as hers)

and the mornings give me
more pain than I can bear
I always wake up
and you’re not there
and I know where you’ve gone to:
back to that bigger,
more enduring world,
the one without me
while the one we created
cannot exist without you
and my biggest mistake
is thinking I could
turn my back on everything
and live there forever;
a fatal blunder
for I am only
your escape
whereas you
are my Heaven.