What do you call 

the man 

who unlocked 

your cage?

Who had 

the audacity 

to just 

saunter over 

and open the door?

Who smiled

and held out his hand

and didn’t flinch 

when you retreated

snarling 

to the far corner?

 

What do you call 

the bond 

you forged

as you finally

took that hand

and left 

the prison 

of your mind

for the wonder 

of the world?

As you began 

to laugh together

at the absurd beauty 

of life?

As his simple 

kindness 

and admiration

began 

to heal you?

 

You’re both 

survivors;

resilient.

You both protect 

your exquisite 

sensitivity

with a hard shell 

of humor 

and nonchalance.

 

And you both know

that you’re not 

the one;

that this is just 

a season in your lives,

a brief respite

where strength 

is gathered

and lessons 

are learned.

 

What do you call 

the care 

and respect 

you share?

The hundreds 

of daily reminders

that you are not 

alone

and the gratitude 

and passion

that knowledge generates?

What do you call 

your sense of 

collaboration 

and conspiracy

against 

the outside world?

 

Few comprehend

your understanding 

or

your joy.

They say 

you should 

want more;

that you deserve more.

But

the more

of which they speak

is just

convention;

the “should”

that enslaved you

for so many years.

 

You cherish 

this fierce

inexplicable

total 

devotion, 

whatever 

it’s called.