Poem: Orphanage.

Your heart is the largest orphanage
in the universe,
it’s ventricles like abandoned tunnels,
dark yet comfy, slick yet warm—
it tolerates all, even
my lowly whims and childish antics,
my tantrums and unbecoming pouting.
Under the brood of your darkened face,
beneath the shadow of your heart’s winged reach,
where goodness, like a warm plantation wind, walks
between the clouds
I find myself sheltered, yet scared
not that you’ll stop loving me
But that the strength necessary to understand the
will skim and bough upwards
from somewhere other than
your heart,
I shudder and cry,
that you’ll realize there’s no place for me,
not in your perfect little world,
at least not with an infant heart
as consuming as mine.


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