To know her is to love her
in the woods where the golden streets are actually green,
and the sun filters onto her sleeping face,
and the only sounds are the birds and our breathing
To know her is to love her
in a winter storm when my grip on the wheel and her grip on my thigh tighten,
and she promises me that we will make it home safely tonight
To know her is to love her
in that coffee shop downtown with the open mic,
where we sit and read books and drink coffee that bites back
–
To know her is to know her forgiveness and understanding
To know her is to have been graced with her kindness
To know her is to know her soft touch as it caresses the bloody caverns around your heart that she holds in her hand as she promises not to rip it out of your chest
To know her is to believe that when she says forever, she means it
To know her is to know, with every fiber of your being, that even at her worst
she is love.
To know her
is to love
Her.