I notice, my love, the more we nest together
In this sequester time, the more I want
To go in search of twigs and twine to feather
Our den. My truest friend and sage savant
Of this oft-confusing soul, sitting with
Your legs resting on my lap is the sweetest
Of the spots. When you get pissed or take the pith
Out of stories I sometimes tell myself (defeatist
Tales based on past fictions) I think–
Look at that–shes angry and standing
Right there–not going anywhere, brink
Of despair or highest peak–my safe landing.
I know folks don’t get this lucky, my heart.
That’s why locking this down was really smart.