any which way

it doesn't matter how, or where, or why
you find yourself promixate to this
soft, forgiving lap, this strong
boulder of a back on which you can lean
in your wooziest hours. it doesn't matter
that there are those who would throw stones,
call their congressman, hiss at you between razor teeth.
if it is inconvenient, or elusive, or caught
between the railroad tracks of shame and desire,
if it is a precipice from which you dangle
and debate your future or your past or your
willful present - so it must be. it doesn't matter
if someone with a placard is screaming in your face,
or if it is you, carrying that expanse of cardboard
on your own frail shoulders. if there is light,
you cannot resist the window through which it
lays its beams on you. if there is air,
do not be a fool and ignore your very lungs.
it doesn't matter how, or where or why.
you must love any which way you can.