sometimes the scars
across my heart
make it hard for me to be the man
you expect me to be
and the strength youve come to count on
that reliability
dissipates
as I linger along those lines
of marks left by another
the things we say without speaking
what we know of one another
without discussion
are gifts we embrace daily
without
stopping to consider
where they came from in the first place
what you offer me and what i give to you
without question
continue to create in both of us
this dream,
this fantasy
that is ours to write or dismiss.
according to s.e. senter 
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