By Amy Eyre
When I fell in love with you it wasn't any small thing.
The emotional bloodletting that the word Love had always brought me
made me hard against its meaning.
My heart was a stone when I first saw your face.
You were black leather, shades, shimmering bright light and cigarettes beautiful.
You had a voice that signaled out into my deep space;
a beacon guiding me into unknown territory.
Your baritone caught my ear like a sweet melody.
I could not help but listen; singing along helplessly.
I tried to think of the sweetness of your kiss;
a sensual breath laced with passionate speech.
I wasn't looking for your love...that word again...that pretty bitter word;
perpetually wrapped all around and inside out of man and woman.
Invariably there is heartache ready to dilute the meaning from the definition.
I desired you. I feared you;
terrified of enduring another crack in my heart.
Thor's hammer continually at the ready
to crush Eros and his Arrows to dust for me to swallow.
One day I saw you sleeping.
In your slumber the radiance of angels surrounded you;
punk rock and poetry lousy with golden light.
I felt something inside my chest break free.
Marble shattering; a statue coming to life; I cracked opened.
My exposed organ throbbed and raced vigorously.
I felt softness and beauty grab at the pith of my grit like thieves.
The word “love” hijacked my vocabulary; wrote your name inside my soul as if it were a locket,
imprinting itself upon my blood stream like a drug.
I was struck through by an errant arrow as you leaned in to kiss me with your sweet lips.
I watched as Eros danced away from the scene;
a blithe smile upon his Cherubic face.
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Amy Eyre has written 4 self published chapbooks; How Ugly It Is to Eat Apples, Pele the Volcano Goddess Out on the Front Lawn, Words from the Moon and A Kiss Smacked Crimson Upon Your Poppy Lips. Native of Delaware, Amy Eyre has competed in Slam Competitions in New York City, Baltimore and D.C. Amy has also been published in Dream Streets Magazine.
