I am learning the business of being
loved, the way always lingers on the tongue
after it’s spoken more than once.
There is a rhythm to it, the banality of breathing
in the same space for years, inhabiting
the same room, but at a distance.
We discover silence and speech all over again,
but oh love, how hard to believe that strength
can also be quiet, how hard to name
the things I want, how hard to trust that saying
is not synonymous with breaking.