I Have Compared my Lover to a Continent the Shape of a Launching Arrow
I have compared my lover to a continent
the shape of a launching
I have compared her calmness to the stillness of a
war-torn city slowly healing its
I have placed her eyes, and a bleeding
sunset, in a juxtaposition.
I have carried the Sahara to her doorstep
and laid myself as bare
for a body
made of oases and cactus sap.
I have witnessed God's heart rise and fall
through her chest
and I've been tempted to knit
my thoughts of her into a shrine people
can come worship and leave
and still leave some space for me that feels like home.
I have woven her laughter
into that sudden plunge of rivers
and God knows I have tried
to make a thunderous sound
I have stripped the moon naked before
her eyes as I tried to shove
warmth out of a star that can only
I have sewn her tiny units of metaphors
for her nightgown
as I implored a lullaby from the same moon I have destroyed.
I have come close to splitting the alphabet
as I tried to fit its consonants and vowels into an
A8 sized poetry book that compares
my lover to a continent the shape of
a launching fist
and wondered why she has come
prepared for war.