Spirit

When someone asks me

What she gave me

I say

She defined

Spirit

For me

I know what a self is

And a soul

And an identity

I know what I’m made of

And who I’m part of

And what I’d like to be

She took a cloth

And washed my face

And suddenly my flaws

Were missing letters

In a crossword puzzle

Something that can be worked on

When Sunday afternoon rolls around

Spirit is elusive to me

I’m not sure

What it’s supposed to be

Is it what I love?

What I need?

What I’m built on

What I’ve faced?

Is my spirit battered?

Has it been broken

Like my heart?

Does it have wings?

Is it angelic?

Is it broad like a strong man’s shoulders?

Or small like a field mouse

Mild, yet proud

Does it mean something

To anybody

Other than me?

I didn’t know

But then she came along

And put her finger down on it

Like pointing out a page in a book

Simple as that

There it is

That’s you

And then—

One word later—

That’s me

And we can be two and one

And one doesn’t take from the other

You see?

That’s spirit

That’s what a spirit is

She gave that to me

Love?

You can love anybody

I can love chocolate cake

And I can love my mother

And I can fall out of it

Like water from a bucket

That’s got too much in it

But her?

She’s my spirit

She can never be

Too close to me