What is the anatomy of a lover?
Two year old ticket stubs, a handful of holiday cards
And a note you wrote about groceries;
This is the anatomy of a lover.
My heart is not a machine but a garden;
Only the best care gives the most fertile soil
For the reddest roses and tallest sunflowers.
My hands are not shaky ships
To carry you to bed, they are fortified
Lighthouses to keep you safe as you come and go.
My body’s organs are made of our laundry lint,
Every teary-eyed and red-faced fight, our postcards
From solo vacations and sweaters you keep
Giving me even though they’re uglier than trolls.
But I wear them with a smile because I’m grateful
And I don’t want you to think they’re wasted wool
Because then my lungs would be wasted wool.
This is my anatomy when I’m in love with you.