when our love got too big
with nowhere to go
it tore a hole in itself
because it could not stop
expanding the way

it needed to

and now it runs out of itself
while I am trying to catch
every drop
with a bucket made of holes
the way phantoms hold
with what they are not
or hold the counter
of what needs to be held
but at least it is out there
somewhere refusing to die
and growing just as large
as it can find the room
to grow
and there's something to be said
for resilience like that