I saw love disfigure me once.
Watched it reshape me
into something I stopped recognizing —
a man who flinched at warmth,
who stood at the edge of connection
and felt the old animal fear
rise up like it was trying to save him.
And the cage called.
And I walked in.
And I lay like that for days
upon end,
face to the soil,
waiting to be acknowledged
by some touch
that never quite arrived.
The cage called.
I said come on in.
I will not open myself
this way again.
Or so I thought.