you close your heart
and you think it is a safety,
but it is a violence against yourself
in the quietest of ways,
yes, quiet, but still a violence,
a brutal, aching violence,
and to love, it is bravery,
and no small bravery,
but a fearless, grand reach into
an uncontrollable unknown,
yes, an uncertainty,
but maybe, what a beautiful unknown
– butterflies rising
