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I Would Love You if I Could
by Elayne Clift
I mean really love you,
with the passion brought to bear
when grief or ecstasy prevails.
I would love you
as the heat of the sun bears down
on August mornings, making
sweat cling to the surface of dewy perennials.
I would love you if I could,
as Guinevere loved Lancelot,
and princesses loved princes
in all the fiery fairytales of youth,
when anything was possible,
as rebellious, we refused imperfection,
and banished quarrelsome reality
from our own Kingdoms of Heaven.
I would love you if I could, like that.
But failing such ethereal heights,
I offer you a peaceful heart,
knowing that it would not beat so brazenly, alone.
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