Vessel

There is a purity to this desire
That renders me shyer
Than a Hobbit
And it’s been my habit
To hide behind kindness
To get beyond the highness
Of the esteem in which I hold you
Without hands
I am touched
By your humility
Your strength in fragility
Rendered malleable
As reclaimed clay
Ready again to be molded
And newly set ablaze
I would to be the vessel
Into which you pour
I would to be the one
That holds you.

© 12-25-2012 L. Ashwood

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