A Duplicate Of Many Swords Poem by Mimi Mata

I know what you are my dear
I know subdued solace behind your steel doors and sword fences
The shine of metal only cuts inward of wood
Tell me can your splintering heal? ...
I know what you are my dear,
The devoured apple lingering in my hunger,
The saddened tree with lost leaves and dangling core;
The blossoming spring that promises to not leave anymore.
You are the only rose in my barren field,
And, for battles within my flesh
You are my soldier and shield;
I know what you are my dear...
At times you are the night without the light of stars,
Sunken reflections of me and you in your eyes.
How is it that I the huntress loves you
When it is I in my own heart I dispise?
I can offer you no salvation, no revelation
You can run from me on your own accord.
I can only offer an empty cup and a duplicate of many swords...
I cannot offer you many horses
Or anything that might be of aid to set you free;
And...
Where is the pity for the man who loves such a soul?
Where is the pity for this man who is bound to her earth by his knees?
Where is the salvation for this soldier with too heavy a shield?
I know what you are my dear,
So I offer a revelation,
A subtle sense of salvation;
For you did not run from me on your own accord,
I offer you a cup...
And a duplicate of many swords.