i.
You better find
a future love
who writes you poetry.
'So you can shake your head at him
like a sad dog
or have that small-smile satisfaction
that you could be the only one
to make me cry
with your beautiful
gut-
punching?'
That -
maybe.
Or, rather,
I want him
to tuck poems
crisper and sharper
than new apples
into hollows in your soul -
I want your man to cut you
and bleed your insecurity out -
to carve out dry rot fear
with a touch
and chase your terrors
with a gargoyle line.
If my words can't be your dream-catcher
and my lungs can't be a medicine bag,
then your future lover
better be
a damn good poet.
Because I can't stand
the thought
that a poem
may not always
be magical enough
to force love's hand
to move
on my behalf.