Owning a piece of love

I found this undated poem on IDA, the old laptop I used to use:

Owning a piece of Love

 

 

I am looking in your living room window

watching you breathe

in and out, watching your chest rise

under your shirt, watching the way your jeans

fit around your legs and hips.

 

Shakti Gawain says that everyone is our mirror.

The people we love mirror the things about us

we love, while the people we hate

mirror the things we hate about ourselves.

 

I love the color of your eyes, the curl

of your hair, the way your body

nestles into your clothes.  Some of the parts

of you I love I can't love on me.

 

I like the way you are awake, and look at things,

they way you speak out, gentle, clean, insistent.

You love, your connectedness, your openess,

your continual searching, the things you find along the way.

 

Maybe I love the people wo are what I would like to be:

beautiful, inside and out.

 

Shakti Gawain says the things we dislike in other people a

are the things we disown in ourselves.  I dislike anger,

especially raw, explosive anger.  I dislike sarcasm,

which I read means cutting of flesh  I dislike cruelty,

hatred, bullying.  I dislike excluding people,

for any reason.  I dislike bossiness, anyone telling me

what to do.  My secret disowned self is a dark

and fearsome monster if it owns all this, and more.

 

I'm supposed to own, reclaim, and integrate

my disowned self.  Instead, I sit in these bushes

watching you, wanting to own a piece of love.

Mary Stebbins, date unknow
VERY RAW

--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary