the one

i want to love you the way light enters a room —
without asking, without apology,
filling every corner it finds.

i want to love you without losing myself.
i want to love you whole,
being yours, all yours,
the way the sea belongs to the shore
and does not call it surrender.

but this love ruins me.
i let it ruin me.
i open the door knowing what it costs
and i open it again, and again,
because a life without this burning
is not a life i want to keep warm in.

i want to live without worry.
i want to hold you instead of holding
all the things i’m afraid of.
i want my hands to know your hands
better than they know clenching.
i want to fall asleep
with your name the last word in my mouth
instead of doubt.

but i can’t. not yet.
not because i don’t want to.
because wanting you is the most honest thing i’ve done
and honesty has always terrified me.

you are the bread i break alone at night
and still taste in the morning.
you are the rain that arrives
before i’ve decided whether to open the window.
you are the one who taught my blood
what it was circling for.

before you, i used the word love
the way a man uses a borrowed coat —
it fit, roughly, and i gave it back.
after you, the word grew roots.
after you, it wouldn’t leave.

and if this love is the ruin of me,
let it ruin me.
let it take whatever it takes.
i would rather be destroyed by something true
than be kept whole by something empty.

you are the one i have loved.
the one who made me love.
and you will be the one.
the only one.

K.S.