Your heart is my atelier,
where I sew the deep cracks
you carry
with my diaphanous words.
Your rhythmic lubb-dubb
settles itself on my pages,
the blueness of your soul
becomes my ink.
On your earthy diaphragm
I grow my ever-green metaphors.
Your ribs cage me inside
freeing me from my demons,
my sweet, secure haven.
Your gritty, harsh breaths
traveling from your nasal passage,
rains in your thorax
drenching me in a life—
so tender, so recherché.
On the soft walls of your heart
I paint all my desires and dreams.
©
U