when you said my name

& curled luxuriously
in my lap— look
I won’t write this
poem again, but
then again, I have
been writing this
since day one
and we’re still
not made,
what to
make of that?

For I
want you
near me
always

& until that elegant
end arrives I will
write this poem
over and over,
don't know how
many ways I can tell
you, when you said
my name it made
me so glad to be
alive.