The Classroom

I take sure, gliding steps; emphatic, stamping ones. The desk is my back rest, the tables my foot relief. No I'm not a king, but this is my world. I'm not the protagonist, but this is my stage. Back straight, then waist released. Legs crossed, back leaned. Gaze is firm—I'm here to give, not to fill an empty cup. I'm pushed, but I do not tilt backwards. A full cup does not need more water. It's my stage to pour. My eyes reflect love, a stalwart choice to do you good. You push me to give you second-best, to relent on your good. But this is my stage, my cup is full. I'm pushed, but I do not tilt backwards.

1. I feel guilty and unfree when I withhold love out of fear.

2. I make unwise decisions when I lavish love out of neediness.

3. Radical love out of emptiness creates distortion.