My Love Is Like A Little Ledge Poem by Iohannes Silvaticus

My love is like a ledge.
It isn't a very big ledge,
Just enough for two, perhaps
Maybe less.
We stand on one foot,
Sharing the little ledge.
Sometimes you say:
Hold me closer.
And then there seems
To be a little more space
On our little ledge.

Once, your words,
Threw me off the ledge.
But I held on,
Silent and waiting.
When I thought
All hope was gone,
You helped me up.
You kept a distance,
But still i was glad,
Glad to be back,
On our little ledge.

Now you tell me,
Another has come to share
What little space we have.
I am pushed off,
Once again, holding on.
But thoughts of him,
Trample on my fingers.
I hold on by
My bleeding fingertips,
Refusing to let go,
Of our little ledge.

This little ledge is happiness.
Whether you would help me up,
Remains uncertain.
The bleeding fingers
Make it hard,
And I start to slip.
But lest I should fall,
From such precarious height,
At least I know,
You'd still be there standing,
On our little ledge.