A sun

And there's your name
again,
bleeding out
like a lake
full of copper pennies
with a leak,  
can't plug,  
each tired,  
stained,  
stolen for trips in secret,
embedded with your face
used for coffee
and isolated cake,  
they don't know your name,  
our range, the continued tether,  
despite age
and once
you could have been  
everything,  
were all I couldn't  
leave alone,  
we glowed
like nuclear waste,
and sometimes it still
feels like the nucleus
to all my other  
understandings of love.