A little girl holds my heart with both hands
runs through veins, arteries, jumping cell to cell hopscotch
she loves big stuffed panda bears and drawing
big pink hearts with thick markers all over my teeth
she stays inside on rainy days, when her tiny ears catch the sound
of big bass outside voices she curls up in the hidden
chasms of my lungs but on occasion she will
climb up out my ribs to peak her head
through my eyes and she will love to trace her fingers
over calloused skin, scars, cellulite, summer tan lines
she’ll make me hold her hand when I tell her all their stories
wide starry night eyes watch mine, and I think she knows
one day these stories won’t seem so separate from hers
because when I’m done, she’ll still tell me all
her own stories even when I know them all anyways
there’s a gray freckle under my left eye we share
and she will kiss it to say goodbye at bedtime
and hide just behind the lump in the back of my throat
where we sit quiet contemplating for one whole sleepless night
when it crosses my mind to send her away, it crosses hers to run
but she decides she would miss drawing on my teeth
and I know I would miss her eyes, so we sit in silence and eventually,
she’s laughing again and it doesn’t hurt to remember
for all my years she’ll still be holding my heart with both hands
