Grow up loving the way

a mother loves her baby’s 305

bones, curled up inside

the canopy of her stomach,

swaddled in amnion.

Grow up loving the swan

necks that arms make as two

hands hold while the other two

grasp stones to ricochet

in the pools of each other's pupils.

Grow up loving the bumps

in your skin; the scars are braille;

your body: the Bible, the Torah, the Koran.

Know love is not a burning book.

Love is ripples in your eyes.