I Love Her More

She has a name hanging
in a back orchard somewhere.

Cowbells are ringing. I gave it up
like an omelet to a woman married
to perfection.

I am missing limbs for limbs,
heart for heart. Who am I to promise
life to another broken life?

Her name stands on a balance beam
between two tongues, heated tongues,
a melting puddle of ownership.
Where did she come from?
Where does she belong?

Tug-of-war. I own her more.
Someone who should have been born
is hanging in a back orchard somewhere.

I let her go. I love her more.

Four Flames, One For Each Chamber

Four flames walking around the world
ignited in my womb
burning in my heart

two young bucks
the first
quiet, protective of imaginary
goblin love
the second
rough finger tips
through skin
in search of fire buttons

two little lambs
the first
lady bug
kept under timid wings
the second
my little lamb

a chamber for each burning light
each roaming the world
outside of my ribbed protection

distance has pulled
my little lamb

my fourth chamber
is dying.