To love is to unfasten every shield,
And stand exposed where tender truths reside;
The guarded heart, once closed, is slowly healed
By risking all it longed so much to hide.
I place my fears like offerings in thy sight,
Each trembling doubt laid bare without defense;
In yielding thus, I find a deeper might
Than strength that lives in careful pretense.
For love demands the courage to be seen,
To trust another with one's fragile core;
No triumph equals this brave in-between
Of hope that bleeds, yet dares to ask for more.
So weakness, owned, becomes the truest art:
To break, and still believe, is love's pure heart.
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