Jessy Assy

I would trade
all of the pillows
in the world
for the little wrinkles
the side of your shirt makes

as I softly
nestle my head

between your waist
and the top of your right thigh.

I would give back

the dozens of roses
I have ever received

over the years
in exchange for that

single red rose
you gave me
the day you were certain

I was going to be yours.

I would read more about

tangible world affairs
and regional politics
and less about self-sustained,

surreal philosophies
if that should please
and tickle your intellect more

during our everyday conversations.

And rest assure,
my dearest lover,
that I most resolutely

would prefer decades
of uncertainty
with you,
over a lifetime
of certainty
with anyone else
no matter how

stable, luxurious, or secure.

And if we should stay,
know that I will love you,

undeniably,
with every vein of my heart.

And if we should part,
know that I will still love you,

even more undyingly,
with my words and my verses,

my ink and my blood,
my thoughts and my fingers,

most obsessively and compulsively

in every poem
I shall write, henceforth.