I offer you all that I am

Heart, mind, soul, spirit, body.

Yet you will not receive it

Because you cannot.

You, who have become my world,

Whose presence I delight in,

Will not let me become your world

Because you cannot.

My dreams bask in you,

Your look, your touch, your being.

Your dreams will not be wrapped in me

Because they cannot.

You are more real and dear to me

Then my own self.

Because I cannot be so to you

I want to weep,

But I cannot.

Joanna Ballard - Nov. 17, 1981