For My Husband

I don’t love you as if
you are peonies in spring
except in the way that
the ants coax the petals
until they open towards the sun

I don’t love you perfectly
except in the only way known to me
with hands outstretched as I
feel my way through the darkness
and when I feel your hand
reach out towards mine,
you pull me through

I don’t love you all times
and sometimes I have to get
back to the love
that got us here in the first place
but I do know
my belly still clutches
when you kiss me on the ear

I don’t love you
as the girl I was
but as the woman I’ve become
with eyes wide open to our differences
but with my heart equally open
to our reverence
for each other

And when we go to sleep at night
and I dream,
it’s your eyelids that flutter

Laurie Byro

JDC notes:

Laurie's poem, Body of a Man would have won, but it was not written for the challenge. The judges do appreciate her recognition of the past work's similarity to Neruda's elements.