you have tasted my love
in postcards
palm tree foregrounds
on blackberry peach flavored sunsets
my loopy cursive
dripping across the front
“Greetings from…”
down under
two or three sentences
about how
thanks to you
the ocean salt tastes familiar
on my tongue
the blanketing humidity
reminding me of sweat-drenched
sheets
maybe a line confessing
how I call the moon by her firsts name
when we talk about
you
some xo’s or an asymmetrical heart
followed by the name you moan
into the dark
squeezed into the bottom corner
but darling,
my love is more than postage stamps
and postcards
it is chapters
and volumes
my love is a fucking epic poem
April 3, 2021
