Your Love

Your Love

Your love is honey,
dripping on my heart;
after I've been sliced,
chest cracked open
and it's beating exposed.

Your love is the blues sky, the defective parachute, and the earth.
Your love is the a*****e flying the plane and gravity.

Your love is a bandage
on a bee sting;
that you put there
before I could get the stinger out
and keep telling me to leave it alone.

Your love is a gorilla with a banana. I'm the banana.
I'm a banana with a bee sting. 
Who puts a bandage on a bee sting?

Your love is a poem that I use to sing myself to sleep.

Reviews

[Roland Petrov]

Certainly a different kind of love poem than I was expecting, and quite a pleasant surprise! Unique is the word that comes to mind. The reference to the doomed German Wings flight was most certainly unexpected. Are we talking about the heartless love of a god that rains honey flavored cakes while demanding heads? I love this!

[mattavelli]

Thank you, Roland. You describe my wife better than I could.