She Handed Me My Love

And blindly,
Without a sense of direction,
Without thinking
I bared my soul full of love
She was so gentle
She scooped it up
And coddled it
Like a mother to an injured child
Caring and protecting
She dusted it off
And handed it back
Fearing I had lost it
It was of course a gift for her
But she handled it so lovingly
That I find no malice in me for her
Just the infinite sadness
That lies in discarded affection