I.

If the line of your lover's shoulder is poetry, then
Do not be surprised to find that when he shrugs off
The painful things, vowels fall down into your waiting
Hands. Please, don't be afraid, only know that your teeth
Are consonants enough to keep the words intact.
Rewrite them with ink from your own pupils, dot
Them with the earrings you never wear because
He loves to kiss your ears too much and then
Whisper them in tongues into the cove of his ears,
And breathe them onto his bellybutton and then let them trickle
                                                                                lower
                                                                                          down.


II.

If your lover's laugh is music, then you are
The staff. Where his notes run light and free you
May want to revel in his hysteria, but you must
Hold them down to lines and spaces. You are
The one to make sense of his madness. He will tell
You not to be ashamed of this. When he wants to
He can still find wildness in the curls of your hair.
So after his notes ring out their climax, sing it back
To him. Your voice is beautiful no matter what, and though
Now and again you may forget
The notes to sing, it is still his favorite song.


III.

If your lover is a painting, then you are the mix
Of his primary colors. Where he is the stark reds and yellows, you
Are the oranges, the tangerines, the sunset colors that
You only memorized because once they watched the two of you from
The corner of his bed. So when he tries to paint, add the
Shadows and sun-streaks and funny little names for the
Colors he's managed to capture. It is fine to be scared only
Know that he will not mind if your hand
Shakes a little as you practice
Drawing the shadows of his ribs. He will applaud you
For your efforts, because he has tried
Many a’ time to draw the contours of your hips.


IV.

If your lover is your body, then you must remember
To love every part of him. Do not stretch in the morning and
Hate the extra pounds on your hips, or how much it
Hurts to move the muscles of your neck.
Your lover is your
Ribcage, your heart, your bluegreen veins that
Once beat like a hummingbird's wings, but now has
Calmed down to the ease of a yawn. He is your teeth,
And lips so do not bite down hard when sadness overwhelms
You. Forget things about the painful little things.
Instead cry, and look in the mirror and
Even with your nose red and cheeks red, convince yourself
That you are beautiful.


V.

If your lover's kiss is the beach, then you are
The waves, gently rolling him back out and in again.
When the weather turns rough, do not be
Afraid to beat against his shores, to capture
His possessions in your foam. He will appreciate
The anger, so much that he enjoys getting
Lost among sea grass and African fish with
Colors that make him remember your beauty
At dawn. Try not to hold back, for he knows
That you will lay him back down in the
Sun again, and he is content to have your
Entire body running over his.


VI.

Before he became your lover he was
Your heartbeat and fingernails that held
Secrets underneath. And he was your
Breath that blew out birthday candles
And dandelion wishes, so you can
Forget about submerging yourself in anyone else.

                For as long as you knew him he was
                Your life force. You no longer need
                To look for lucky horseshoes and
                Four-leaf clovers. You know you are
                Lucky because he always holds you close
                And kisses your cheek long enough
                That genesis and Armageddon has already
                Occurred. And he sometimes bites
                Your shoulder, so when you gasp
                He can smile, and teach you how   
                To breathe on your own again.