I miss when relationships meant nothing,
And in that nothingness,
Could mean the world.
*
The artist, the bureaucrat, the hippy…
To each I gave my heart entire,
Willy nilly,
Blissfully indifferent to the consequences.
*
As these worlds shattered,
And as my heart grew worn,
My head entered the picture,
Offering diagnoses as to how durable, how sustainable each new world might be.
*
So it is that my love now is smarter, more earned,
But never again will it be as replete as the kaleidoscopes in which I once danced,
Abandoned to the magic,
Surrendered,
My head trailing far behind, unwelcome at love’s door.
*
My love now is steady, like a slowly kindled flame.
It is a warmth born of eternity,
A light that trades magnificence for truth,
Persona for soul.
Jackson Holzberg Buckley 