/

surprised still by your shoulders
all stature, sunk in my senses;
stolen for granted, the form I stood against.

I opposed your imposition,
sore for my snideness tamed
by the one who saw it and still loved.
my words then were sour,
aimed to cut.
I bit, tasted my bitterness
and spat it back your way.

You stayed, stood and waited.
staid against my instincts
and still loved.

though I aimed to cut,
you had only words for grafting,
joining both our boughs
to a solid standing trunk,
rooted in (our own) stead.