She uses her sing song voice
to love me
in all my frailty
even when I am menace
and shout to the veiny sky
furious and dangerous.
Even when I crumple
so faced with my own wishes-gone-askew
smeared with the mud of desire
even when I have to stay and she has to go,
she can love me.
She is the fire queen
ice maidens will fall to her torch
and she dreams she has a million
fabric squares to smooth her nose
as she sleeps guarded by
the curled cat.
In all this egg shell world
where the very gravity
wants broken ovals on the stone
where pieces fall fractured triangles of
that curve that’s in her smile
I tell her: she has broken me and
made me whole.