accept him

You must accept that’s who he really is.
You must accept you cannot be his
unless he is yours. No compromise.
He is a canvas on which paint never dries;
a clay that never sets, steel that bends
in a breeze, a melody that when it ends
no one can whistle. He is not who
you thought. He’s not. He is a shoe
that walks away: “I will not go where you
want to go.” “Why, then, are you a shoe?”
“I’m not. I have the sole of a lover
but don’t know what love is.”
“Discover it, then.”
“Will I have to go where you go?”
“Sometimes.”
“Be patient with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then, no.”
You have to hear what he is telling you
and see what he is; how it is killing you.

Kate Light