For You

when I write:
“her arm is a handle,
her waist, a place to rest my chin
before the bow licks the strings,”
remember, it is for you.

When I write:
“she keeps the pieces of my life
I have tried to throw away,
returns them to me when they are unexpected,
and suddenly precious,”
it is for you.

When I write:
“this knot of my life
tied and tightened by years
is loosed and unravelled in her,”
it is for you.

Woman in my life,
and do not be sad,
that when I write
it is always for you
even if it is not always
about you.

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