Vulnerable it seems like such an ugly word,

like you are allowing your life to be spoken

but not heard.

As if strange fingers are slipping their way

through the crevices of your mind and into your soul.

As if you are defined by weakness,

by who,

and what,

you are below.

But what if your vulnerability is a conscious willing choice?

What if

a silent breath is your heart’s voice?

What if

the fingers that slip through your mind

trace a path of longing

over every curve they find?

When the words spoken by your lips

are felt not heard.

When a slip of tongue

leaves you flying higher than a bird.

Is it vulnerability

when you have the courage to take a step forward,

Even when you know

that step will place your back against a wall?

When you allow someone else's existence

to fill the space left as your breath falls.

Is love simply a name

for the choice to be

so willingly

vulnerable

that it is no longer

you

or me?

But a beautiful

tangled mess

of our broken pieces

that is

WE