My Chosen Name Cannot Be Torn From Inside My Breast

I used to bring salt to my tongue

and wince at the breaking of flesh and

I was a dog startled by blue thunder

and a dagger twisted between my ribs

was a dagger named desire and

wouldn’t you know it?

I was always good at falling

‘til I learned in my heart

I could pocket terrible asunder

with some bird bones.

now, my new name 

raises me from the dead

with little hesitation.

my new name is love.

my new name is yours. 

our bodies big and bruised 

hurtle towards one another 

with a simple kind of gentleness: 

yes, we've all been plucked and torn open. 

no, we do not let the sour sting our cuts 

anymore.

now, I'll rename myself Angel 

so I'll always be sweet

on some lover's lips.

where've you been, Angel?

I miss you, Angel

a good omen, teasing me by my temple.

me, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your

one good prayer, teetering over the edge of

the sky, a mouth always feasting.

hey, Love, don’t worry

I’m always finding my way back home.