SHE MAKES ME DAILY.

Half of me is in the relative security of my pure
And tutored land,
Which has made me stand like granite
Through
The loss of a father
And profit
Of a son;

But the other part of me,
The sure and true and softly proven half,
Is in a jar
In the far land,
Kept vestal
By her,
And treasured beyond worth,

And she completes me every time we speak,
Whether nestled
In the once in a lifetime love we’ve shaped
Or wrestling
Each others’ opinion
To winter’s
Mat,

And need meets need
Between the separated pieces of me,
As my heart,
Once hardened,
And torn in two,
Is renewed
By her undying beauty.