A stranger, I walked into the rooms,
scared, hurting, terrified to come,
expecting failure in due course,
like immediately. It felt different,
though, warmer, like hope lurked,
flirting around my chair. Like love —
and I grew to believe you really did
love me despite what I was.
Months later, light flickered on as I
watched my clone come in, scared,
hurting, terrified, expecting the worst.
Finally I knew it, felt it, that love
for her wasn’t in spite of her but truly.
We love the hurting animals we were,
seeing them, loving them, as they come,
for they are us, they are what we are —
they’re loved.
