I woke up this morning and
said “thank you”
for the smell of her body
the delicate sigh of her breath
the soft curve of her back
the warmth of her skin…
her mind a forest fire that
no boy has ever been able to contain.
and so the morning,
evaporating into
afternoon
where there are no more words
to say all the things I’ve already said
when she asks me to say
good things about her:
but I’ve already stated my case;
she just won’t listen.
I look at my face in the mirror-
this man, a stranger
who seems too far away…
the distance a war I’ll never win—
her hand in mine
a battle
I fear I’m losing.