Your love is heavy
like a cinder-block.
It slips through my hands
when I pick it up
like a liquid rock.
It hauls me up
to the sun and up
then hurls me down-
Rolls me in spit, then
dusts me with scorn.
Up one wave I slide
then slip down,
then up, then down,
to find my nets torn
empty and drowned.
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Comments about this poem (Your Love by Morgan Michaels )
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