Osso Buco

This is a poem I wrote for a girl who is really special to me.

Your English ivy fingers are

climbing the walls of my

brick and mortar body, forcing

my heart beyond the dark room

I have kept it in.

Perennial, your hands weather

away my stone conscious;

separate me from my flesh and bone
as I wane from crescent to sliver.

The marrow of my spirit,
prized from the broken bones of my body,

quivers on your evergreen fork and knife

as I surrender all I can give.