You are part of me, perhaps
ruffled pink feathers
that form a big fat
cheek

or the edge of
a cliff, sharp
and desolate;

my lovely
mountain peak

You are part of me,
when I am embarrassed,
stumbling over words
I never meant to say

Out of reaction,
our heads poke
of hills like moles

It's one apology after another

We are human, our mouths
communicate to one another

but while our minds form
thoughts to express, our bodies
say otherwise

We catch the eyes of others;
their gaze just as rare
and unique as our
mother's and father's

and like bridle, old branches
we give to the pressure
of being the apple of one's eye
for the time being
rather than love
what cannot be
heard or seen

You know, after all
you are a part of me,--

the rumbling, rousing
fisticuffs of my guts;

Push on, and on
until

death is the one

that signs the contract
across the dotted line.