Anatomy (By Alecssa Ray) Poem by Alecssa Ray

It is almost impossible
to say just
how much
I love you.

You are the most
delicate
love I've
ever had.

A love, that
isn't rushed,
isn't forced,
isn't measured.

It's simply
love.
It's simply what
It's always been.

You.
You are love.
My definition,
is your being.

A love I can't express.
Which so
oddly
strikes me.

Me, a poet,
an artist,
a person
good with words;

impossible.
the impossible task
I've been faced
with.

Not to write about
an un-existing land,
or treasure
I've never seen.

It comes to me,
that the task that
I struggle with
is to simply say;

I love you;
but with more
words
and metaphors.

Do you need
the metaphors
to understand
my love for you?

Because if you say
you do,
I'll give you
the most of my

metaphoric poems.
The ones you said,
you love.
The ones with:

'meaning'.
What is meaning
to you,
my love?

Because
my meaning
is
you.

You sit at
the throne that
my heart bestows
to you.

The heartstrings
you pull of mine
so gently
are your cushions.

A poem,
slowly
drips down
from your lips.

A poem,
I sent you,
of an author
I liked.

Which,
you memorized.
Word,
by word.

And you sang it
along, without
looking at the paper
I was reading it to you from.

My heartstrings,
my blood,
is your kingdom,
your bedroom.

My soft anatomy
longs for you,
in a way only
a heart can.

Be inside me,
not physically,
I wish not for
pleasure.

But be inside me,
in a way
I'd feel the
warmth inside my heart;

every morning,
and every night,
and every day,
and in between,

be
mine
to
feel.

Be mine,
to experience.
To treasure,
to love.

Let me hold you,
tightly,
closely,
softly.

Let me keep you
safe away from harm
deep inside
my heart.

Live inside my bones,
if my bones
meant keeping
you alive.

Live beneath
my skin,
beneath my being,
live inside me.

You
are the
life
inside me.

You fuel me,
you keep me
going,
you warm me.

My cold,
frozen
heartstrings,
are boiling.

- For G.