after Jan Heller Levi’s “Anatomy Lesson”
There are pieces of me everywhere—
part of me is on the couch with my husband,
my head on his shoulder while he drinks coffee
and listens to the morning news.
He runs his fingers through my hair.
This part is peaceful and dreaming.
Another part is kissing friends before embracing,
my face nuzzled into one neck,
while my legs are thrown across the lap of another.
Their sighs raise the tide
and every boat in my body
wants to break out to sea.
Part of me is thinking about my grandmother,
gone three Christmases already,
and the things I’d love to tell her
about our lives this past year—
promotions, the new place
with books on shelves to the ceiling.
A part is dancing around the apartment
in just underwear,
part giving the perfect blow job,
part learning to say “balance” in ASL,
part singing, “Just because it’s over
doesn’t mean it’s really over,”
part taking these pieces and building
this messy collage of love called life,
thankful for all of it.