Poem: Anatomy of a Lover

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.

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