Space

Make space for me between the two of you,
As if I were a Rottweiler who believed
He was a lapdog. Space has been conceived
With this in mind: I'm forcing my way through,
And you accept my kind of love as true.
You feel an emptiness: deeply bereaved,
You check your pulse. This, here, is how you grieved,
Inserting words in empty air. Hope, too.

But once hope enters in, there is no space
For any other feeling. Certainty
Is missing. Fear is gone. Despairingly,
You say desire is easy to replace.
I see those dreams and wishes on your face,
And nothing else. You can't love, as you see.