I’m not sure that I know what jealousy feels like.

I’ve heard tales of it.

Of green cheeks and envious eyes and pounding hearts.

And while my heart beats in my chest like a snare drum,
I don’t believe that it’s out of envy.

I’ve little care for your other loves
Or other bodies.
For all that matters to me
Is when your head
Is on my chest.

I don’t believe I’ve felt jealousy.

Fear,

On the other hand,

Is a strong possibility.