I would have broken down walls for you
I would have scooped the rubble into my ruined hands
And laid it at your feet
A temple at your feet, made of concrete and plaster and bits of wood
All the things that make a wall, a house, a city, a world.
I would have laid my head beside yours
I would have cradled your face in my feeble hands
Too meager for the task
Too weak to hold on, too timid to reach out, too little, not enough
The green and gold and brown of your eyes never for me.
I would have shielded you from the sun
Sheltered you from its burning rays with worthless hands
Sheltered you from the rain
There was never a moment when you would have taken shelter with me
You, you were never here, never near, never mine.