I suppose I'd say:

I hold my anxiety
in the space between my finger joints
as they twitch,
my ire in my teeth and jaws
as the shining pearls rooted in my soft gums
are ground to bitter enamel
(never my knuckles,
I've always been too soft for that).
My sadness must sit under my eyes
and behind shoulders
as they slump down
to hold me on cold nights-

But love?

I might say in my cheeks
when they hurt from smiling too much,
or the spasm of my hands
as euphoria engulfs me,
or in the giddy knots formed in my stomach.

But no;

I think I hold my love
in the cartilage
holding my ribcage together,
how it aches as if something is missing
(although nothing ever is)