This of Small Virtues
This of Small Virtues.
There are things that endear you to me,
strange items that hang in a wardrobe or
lurk on shelves, shyly advertising you.
The books on weight loss, gathering dust
beside fantasy and sci-fi, testements to your
all too human frailty; the books on
love and self, incongruous in a male library
besides the Cosmos and Relataive physics.
The way you embrace science and all
the oddest facts of our tenuous existance on
this planet; where you maintain mankind are
monkeys in jumpers, but you are openhearted
towards magic and the unexplained.
These are the unresolved equations of your nature
secrets that ambush me as I tidy away, or unpack bags
riddles to the sweet core of your nature
open only to me, only here, in our home.
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