Love is Fettered

Love is fettered.
And all I know is that I know nothing.
Nothing of the beauty, nor the pain.
No, I am not one to presume.
But I know what it’s like to stay.
To weld your lives together.
With banged it into shape.
It worked… for a while.
We could have stored it safe.
Out of the cold and rain forever.
9 years, 22 years, 40 years, 58 years.
Shiny and reflective its surface would have shone.
Oiled gears moving in perfect synchronicity.
With a lifetime of use and abuse.
It would have been beautiful.
But what would we have used it for?

Published by sonya

Sonya is an amateur artist of many media. She lives in Portland, OR and is exploring energy-healing modalities, yoga, fiber art, singing, and learning about protecting the watershed of the Pacific Northwest. She writes, dances, cooks, cleans, and helps wherever she can. She is a student of life, always seeking to learn and travel.

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