Marching Into Love

Don’t declare your love to me
Until you’ve seen the moon waxes
And wanes 16 times
I have 27 split selves
38 emotional currents
In rotation

Don’t declare your love to me
Until you’ve seen me Spring forward
And Fall backward
Until you’ve visited my interior riverbeds
Walked my inward wilderness
You have no clue how to love me
In the summer drought
Or amidst the decaying roots on snowy day

I can’t give you an orientation
You had never chopped wood carried water
You had never seen me giving birth to myself
How dare you say you’ve fallen in love
Before gazing at my active stupidity
And fortunate errors
Have you arrived at my boundaries?
Are you aware of your unwillingness
To start with nothing?

You come to me, your hands full
Emptiness in one
Hope in another
Don’t ask me to release your fists
I don’t have the key to unlock your heart
(where have you seen it last?)
I am not a detective in your mysterious case
I am not an undercover to test your limits
I am just a reflection

Of your deep longing
Are you falling in love with your own shadow?
Is it a manifesto to your frustrated ego?

Don’t declare your love to me in a single year
But capture the snapshot of your soul
And burst the nostalgic bubbles
Like your love for wild roses
Falling in love is the scent
Walking into love is the thorns
Fragrance and thorny strength
Same rose, different stories

By Gracelynn Lau (2017)

Taken in Montreal during my mom’s visit in 2014 summer.