Can Love
for S.R-S.

though she’s dear
she’s not air

when she’s there, not here
I still have to exhale, inhale

I still have to live and breathe
in between visits
however delicious these are

I’m going to eat her sour sop
when I see her

fill my belly with it
see how long it takes
to pass through
my alimentary canal

what enters our lungs
must leave too soon after

where can I keep her
within my metaphoric heart
will I in turn, keep safe in hers

what remains when those we love
are away

what of when we or they pass away
are dead and gone

are they the tears we mourn

I’d better accumulate
as much of her, as fast as I can

cans of peaches, pears, guavas
to eat out of season
to make duff with
to boil in bags

what sauce will I have her with
eat her with

will she produce her own gravy
like baked or rotisserie-roasted chicken

my desire now is to make her drip
as I drip

like water off leaves after rain


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
3:35 p.m. 19.02.08