I’ll show you my heart in small pieces,
small enough to fit on a microscope plate
under a 100 millimeter lens.
If you look close enough, twist the focus lens
wrap your fingers around the body and warm the cold plastic.
In between the molecules and blood,
you’ll see my microscopic hand in your microscopic hand.
You’ll see my legs wrapped round yours in the middle of the night, like headphone cords.
You’ll see my flashlight under the covers at night, reading your favorite book, trying to decipher the sentences that structure your neurons, line your brain cells, and flow in your veins
You’ll see me, trying to tell my sister about you, struggling to find a phrase for the person who occupies significant other, lover, best friend, laser-tag partner, 2 am drinking buddy and 2 pm drinking buddy, passenger seat dj, and late-night-kissing-in-the-rain person.
You’ll see me calling you my person, the only person who can focus the microscope just right, turn the lens like a dj, and not get lost in the minutia.