You cannot know what the sadness in you does to me,
the same way that you cannot know the
heat of the jealousy your sadness enkindles.
Who is the fool so lucky to have you as a possible
And turn it away? For what?
I would forsake all I have, to hold that momentary gleam in your eye
which makes someone else’s poor judgment
something that hurts you so
and reminds me that no matter how much I am entwined by you
it will always be by limbs invisible to one of us.