Unfamiliar Heart

You love her, so
  you reach inside her
and take
 her oldest and most secret pain. You hold it,

    softly,

against your chest. There, you let it rest,
  for the night.


In the morning, she takes it back,
 to carry with her throughout her day, as
   she has always done.
You return it willingly,
  because it's hers and
you know
  that some things are
not yours to

    truly

share.

But now and again,
 at work, or the mall,
  or your regular seat at
 the coffee shop,
you remember the

ache
    And the weight of it
cradled
next to your unfamiliar
  heart.

As you reach
for the spot where it lay
    in the dark, nestled
between your breaths,
You realize you miss
    the pain and the
weariness.

And you're not sure why. But
    you love her so.