Valentine's Day Poem (for ami)
There are bindings
There are bindings we may never untie.
Your belly will swell with our children,
will slim and swell, slim again.
Your hair I find, brown, in our bed,
stuck on my skin, will lighten.
Our rings, polished gold, will dull.
Then, when even the secret poems
on their hidden curves fade, reaching,
I find—there, in midair—your hand, in mine.
There are bindings we may never untie.
Your belly will swell with our children,
will slim and swell, slim again.
Your hair I find, brown, in our bed,
stuck on my skin, will lighten.
Our rings, polished gold, will dull.
Then, when even the secret poems
on their hidden curves fade, reaching,
I find—there, in midair—your hand, in mine.
i love my poet husband.
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Anonymous |
6:26 AM