Berlin

I would love you through anger
and struggles
I would love you through fences
where fingers and mouths
touch through metal links
I would love you through disaster
I would love you through the Berlin Wall,
cold and stoic and concrete
I would pass the days by
tagging it up with mops of my love’s conceit
cuz this wall stresses you
and it stresses me but not us—
thus
incomplete
and in the capital of recklessness
is our physical graffiti
permanent and unmistaken
blood marks where the toll is taken
curved and spacious wounds
where the soul was shaken
up into the shared sky,
clouds we could call our own
shapes
from a world that seemed
so much more
like home