your heart is my pet rabbit
look at me and tell me that i'm the only lover you've ever had
the only lover you've ever really had your whole goddamn life
go on, say it, show me and for christs sake don't stop moving your hands
tell those hands i said they are my first two poems ever written down
tell them that they make mountains and world war
and thunder and famine and long-term illness and miracles
seem as mundane and un-lit as a motel parking lot
in the middle of nowhere on a tuesday night.
in my head i can hear the two hands
and what i hear is hunger
i just want to watch them eat
in my head i feed two flame-red foxes, wild-eyed and eager
i want to wait for them, i want them to wait for me
i want to keep them on fire and feed them again and again
see i can't stop thinking about what my lips
or my legs or my hipbones are,
what my ribcage or my back is without those two hands,
and the thing is without them turns out they're nothing.
and this here? this is everything, easily.
the rest is just in limbo, everything else is so tiny and if you could just keep those two hands on me i might actually have a chance at this, at everything, and in the end i say, fuck the facts, because okay, you really are the only lover i've ever had and with your hands on me you and i are a goddamn standing ovation.