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My Only
You are my Only;
the One.
My Heart clamors down
from its dusty shelves
over-joyed
pounding true for you.
My doilies fold.
I see deep pools in your eyes
and swim there
splashing up
huge helpings of my soul.
I'm Metaphor, Simile and Noun
for you;
lift my soul skirts;
stand naked before you;
whip up joyful tear soups;
bless everything you've touched;
anvil stamp
your spirit
to my eyelids.
Yes, it is love;
I think
Love itself loves you.
I know.
Love told me
its True.
It sits quietly with us
floating our souls.
poem
by
Lonnie Hicks
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