you ask why I love you
& I answer, because
of how you love
the way you bring it
to me
with such tenderness
& singularity
a word I once used
to describe my own
offering of self to you;
not so much a feeling
as an action,
a commitment
you now look at me,
puzzled,
when I say
the only things we have in common
are you, your addiction
& my response to it
which is its own sickness
if I stay
& that can never be enough
you ask for a translation
like we speak different languages
made of the same words