CALL ME BELOVED

I’m like a furnace that needs to be fed
with all warm things, even now, on saturdays
where the font on the screen is enough to satisfy.

it is about us, about four years of hand holding
on to each other. I want to write those minutes –
I’m ready to go back to read and relive moments again
with you. twenty three together, our lives blooming out
like a wineglass, our stem ballooning out to the cup
full of potential – I feel it electric in our breath.

the cat rolls his ball through the track, places
his paws determinedly around it, trying
to pry it out with clumsy mittens.
I like to believe I taught him this.