there was a wasp
outside the coffee
shop earlier this
morning trapped
in the cold, splayed
out between some
bricks, and I nudged
him with my toe,
wondering if i should
crush him or if the sun would
bring him back to life, despite
the irregularity of his nature
and I thought of you, often
lost and trapped in the cold
how I couldn't bring the sun
it just had to rise, so I stepped
aside and went to work.

i gave him a key to
more than just
more than just the -
the key, with a little
green stopper, with
his soap in the shower,
the drawer at the bottom
of my dresser, and the bed
because he took it all up and
I didn't mind, so the house
and the key, and his boots
in the corner, morning light
all over his back in iambic
pentameter i'm tracing
I love you down his
spine, where everything
started-- because back
in September when I
asked him to kiss me
I didn't think i'd fall
in, in, i  n, lo--              
  the
key, the one that he
has, with the green
stopper to more than
more than, more than
just the house.