Patience

So—

I guess I love her breath

Kept in nose and lips, made

From heartbeats in her chest

 

Lest I forget—

Where she’s been

Trapped in the bladed grip of his teeth

A flood of my heartbeats under thrall

Panoply absorbed by fingers and hands

At the heart of mêlée; a need needs no paw

 

So—

So say we all—sometimes

I can’t stand to be away

From her breath

 

But I must wait—wait

Till I’m ready

For her claw

To find my chest.

 

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