Love Like a Suitcase

Love like a hundred year old

oak floor,

Swept clear of the days dog hair

And crumbs.

Love like a candle lit for a ritual,

For a restless body.

Love like a window open

To the night breeze. The first

Thing I put on is

The music. Then,

Who do I want to be?

Love like a suitcase

I keep behind the couch

In the living room, a collection

Of possibilities.

Pirate queen?

Then how about a black, silk scarf

With gold moths.

Love like Sovereignty.

Or a rebel without a cause?

Then, wine-red, wide-leg, extra-long, cotton dickies.

Love like wandering.

Or perhaps a fairy nymph?

Then, a marigold-yellow, lingerie crop.

Love like fertile joy.

Love like seduction.

Black heels with zippers and laces

Or teal high tops or pink sneakers.

Love like a dance where I weave

Together, all the versions of me.

Love like colors that whisper,

“You can be anything!

Love like alchemy.

Love like life, worth living.