possession
a little box from the thrift
heart-shaped velvet molded with gold antimony
brought home as a treasure
to be caressed by sunlight
and cocooned by lazy mites.
when i spotted you
it was amongst a host of other trinkets
each catching only an eye,
while you caught space on this shelf.
am i trying to own you?
or is this an act of adoration?
you’re exalted with the chore
of staying the same forever.
the heart has no name
except the one that is mine.
for when you drink from my lips
and call it sweet,
i can’t help but feel
all too possessed.