Tom Barlow

Valentine

She is raised as fireworks
he a slow burn
they meet at the ash pile

her tongue sharp as a drawknife
that only cuts as she pulls him in
he the willing board.

For her, he dances like a marionette
she knows her knots
she nurses her blues
so he brings her carnivore flowers.

Time welds them together
the pedestal 
the effigy

day by day she pecks away
until the holes in him whistle
so he plays for her on Saturday nights
while she is out

for he has been raised to expect little
and she is every bit of that
but what does love know of reason.

She sleeps with a hammer
he keeps track of the knots on his head
counts every one as a valentine.

In addition to five novels and over one hundred short stories in print, Tom Barlow is also an accomplished poet with over a hundred poems appearing in journals such as Ekphrastic Review, Voicemail Poetry, New York Quarterly, Modern Poetry Quarterly, and many more.  See tombarlowauthor.com.