our precious love
Somehow.
This doesn’t matter.
Cancer. Chemo.
It just doesn’t matter.
It is what we’re doing.
Oh, it is not who we are.
We are in love.
We are love.
There it is.
I hold you in my arms.
70 trillion healthy cells.
And a few renegades.
Dori.
It is not you.
This body holding you is not me.
The love I feel
The love you receive,
The love you give to me
Is not from these bodies.
It existed before these bodies.
It continues after.
I cling to you
In moments of weakness
I hold you up in moments of strength.
The ebb and flow
Of this divine plan,
Of love’s perfection.
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