you fill me,
not in that literal way
of pitcher pouring into tall glass
to form condensation on the outside,
but in that spiritual way
of your heart pouring into mine
to form radiance of skin,
showing of teeth,
growing of hair,
confidence that shouts to strangers
that i am loved enough at home
to need anything from them.
i never knew a man who made my hair grow,
whose soul glowed and became B complex
to make my life much less so;
i never knew a man who laughed at my jokes so hard
that tears filled his eyes,
a man who knew all of me,
from the low dark corners i don’t want anyone to see
up to the vision of who i’d like to be
and loves each part equally,
you fill me.
i was complete before,
but with you i overflow,
that i am full.
i’ve got that
“newlywed happy love” weight;
“you’ve filled my heart and tummy
and now i can’t button my jeans” weight;
“i’ll take a slice of you
with extra whipped cream” weight.
your love is salty caramel sweet;
your words are hot sauce when i’m fried chicken
and your kiss is like a whole Maine lobster
with extra melted butter
and i’m hungry!
always satisfy my appetite for your love.
even when i think i’m stuffed,
i haven’t had enough.
you have added pounds to my life
that i cherish
and carry with me proudly.
i am full
full of blank grief,
who cares about tomorrow?
it’s blank too
like the response to a question
that’s inappropriate and uncomfortable.
full of love, often too much.
i need some air
so my blank lungs can breathe here,
share the earth with blank eyes,
just like mine
in a world that is both blank and divine
and be full.