I hold you ever so close, to hear your heartbeat
against the hollow that is my own.

With the shutters closed and your eyes bright
in the darkness that encloses us securely,
I tell you in a whisper about my first heartbreak.

How did it go? you ask and stroke my hip;
I was a flower, I tell her, and my lover left me unwatered
to the extent that my once-pink blossoms became gray,
and the head drooped as if pinned down—

Her hand stops on my knee.
So,
why did you keep loving her?

—Because, even as I withered, I kept staring at the sky,
memorizing every drop of rain that fell, hoping it would shower.

You don’t fear love now?

I pull her in, warm against my chest, my aphrodite.
No, my love, for when I found you, it was like an April storm.