The Trinity Of You In The Unity Of Me Poem by Lorenzo Lynn

How loved I am that I have two
I don’t need three
but do want you.

By what he did and what he said.
One diamond, hard
cut me – I bled

The sapphire more than azure stone
my sweet delight
left me alone.

Then he came to my rescue, love
my little man
my eagle, dove.

Another came into my bed
a younger one
played with my head.

Both hands are filled with one in each
both waiting far
within my reach.

A word from one, a note from two
keeps me intact
Holds me from you.

Lo, I may yet be loved by one
(or two and three)
not just for fun.

I wonder still if I should try
to keep the two
until they die.

Or should I take the chance on you
my only three
supplanting two.

You know my mind; I gave my soul.
My body waits,
reversal role.

I see, my love, your written plea,
(I loving them
you loving me)

that we become in love as one
without the two
till life is done.

I cannot say the loving phrase.
I am afraid
too many ways.

Though I may love and will not say,
I’ll take the love
you give each day.

One day we’ll meet, a matching test
to light a spark
to burn the rest.

For now, I hesitate, I fear,
you love me far
and hate me near.

I do not know how far to go
in loving you
your “Yes, ” my “No.”

Or should it be by chance reversed,
you as the best
and I the worst.

Alas, I let all stay the same:
you love my self
and I, your name.

I have my two; I need no more,
though still I search
for three and four.

While you are three, I need but one,
who will remain
compared to none.

I need to know, ”Does he exist? ”
I checked the world,
I saw the list.

Should I presume that I could care
for fewer than
the two I dare?

Though I may seem to like your face,
you cannot meet
my torrid pace.

And dare I add, not meant too bold,
I am too young,
or you – too old.

For what I crave that pleases me
I get from one
or two, not three.

Keep me, dear friend, a length apart,
so I don’t break
your eager heart.

I cannot be what you may need,
to have and hold –
but words to read.

I cannot give my self to you;
two have each half:
one part too few.

Not much of me is there to share
in this, my world
of laissez faire.