i wonder

catefrances

like a serpent eating its own tail
i find myself consuming my own heart
i allow the beatings it takes
just as much as i free it to soar
the bars of its cage are not rigid steel
but more like rubber bands that bend
and give and snap back to injure
without pain there can be no joy
no measure for the magic
can it love only singularly or
can we allow its multiplicity?
do we restrict its mood or
can we accept all the gifts it gives
and recieves in return?