CAGED

you have
all of me
the migraines, the infections,
the hormonal imbalances
that on alternate days
have me swinging between
lust and lost

on some days
curled up under the bed
I wait for your footsteps

I imagine the pink juice of watermelon
running down your fingers
as you cut it slowly, carefully
placing the pieces artfully
in delicate glass bowls
stacking them inside the refrigerator
to satiate my nightly cravings

in love, you are always
more than a companion
you are my carer,
my hand-holder at hospitals
the interrogator of doctors
the giver of bear hugs
the purveyor of dimpled smiles and terrible jokes

at night, watching you sleep
a thin blanket pulled up to your cheeks
I want to put you in a glass case
so nothing can reach you or harm you

I will take you out at will