let the right one in

belly button to

soft hollow

at the base of the throat

squared-

armpit to waist,

more rectangled

perhaps;

not one dimensional

but vallied and hilled in

soft waves;

my carcass is

not expansed enough

to hold how I feel.

lulled into a zombie’d

state, I thought

all I had to do

was love.

play in moments

contemplating,

you’d say obsessing,

the loveliness of you.

hours, hours, hours-

knee to knee,

sated, intoxicated,

off-kilter.

I planned, prepped,

cooked, opened bottles,

laid the table.

was that the bell?

have you come?

my door will open

to you,

I will let you in.

they are big,

these pulses,

crushing out –

intimidating, daunting,

maddening

against the tangle,

but they can settle-

yes, they have a life

of their own,

so much life

that they will

live beyond

what you have known.

ah, but you have never,

really,

leaned in-

examined,

sat down

to feast

on the savories and sweets

locally sourced across my

belly and breast.

is that the bell ringing?

have I planned

enough

for the visit.

have you come?

if you do,

I will let you in.

not for what you are,

or what you say,

but for what

you could be,

could mean.

I worry

that you don’t have

an appetite

for what is

me.

but if you hunger

and thirst,

I will let you in

to feast

rectangled, vallied, soft

hills.

I will let you in.