She'd claim I hold all the words
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and delights when I string them
rescued pearls from my deepest heart, yet
she holds the verse my soul longs to hear.
She'd say I'm experienced
cocksure in my confidence
with her an aching hot house rose, yet
I'm virginal quivering as her lips shape my name.
She'd say I am her fortress
shelter against fear, steadfast
banishing the assaults of memory, yet
her regard lifts me above the fray.
She'd say I nourish her
my sun, soil, and rain coaxing her
to grow tall and bloom, yet
she raises me, Lazarus fresh from the grave.
Smile if you're stupid,
laugh if you understand.