his heart is made
of marshmallow fluff and
bundles of old disposable razors
he is
tall,
but the
kind of tall that is
noticeable from a distance,
like a politician
or a sitcom father.
and on the
sunniest day
of the whole
long, icy winter
he drove her
out
to the path
under the canopy
of bare Tennessee pines,
kissed her neck-
softly-
and grabbed her waist-
not softly-
breathe in and out
rustle on the leaves
feel the air
on faces and fingertips
he smells like clove and honey.
