The Reason for Clinging

Your hand is not a whip with a merciless blow on my shoulder to make me bow. Your eye is not a dagger with a sharp furious glance at my soul to lay it waste. You are not an idol, my love! You are the water in my vase. You are the red fish in my bowl. You are a kiss upon my tear; and your warm hands are a pillar that hold me back from rolling down the slope of the road on every road I cling to you ...