To be loved how I love — a poem

Being loved,
The way I love.
Would begin
Perhaps a little quietly.

A longer, road
Than our childhood
Led us to believe.
But each meter
Along that path,
Is laid carefully.
Cemented, sometimes
Sometimes, left wobbly
In its sand-bed
To allow for little patches
Of you, and of me
To grow through
Wily and free.

And further along,
After the initial foundations
Comes glades, and woods,
Ravines and rivers
Of connection.
I’d be held, entirely
Safe in the knowledge
That the love I was in
Was all around me,
Holding too.