Brian Sonia Wallace

Here is a Gift You Can’t Take With You

Here is a Gift You Can’t Take With You
The feeling of I love you on your tongue.
The memory of sweat — when was the last time
you were this dirty — and didn’t care?
Lover, I aim to haunt you
with my joy. Give you the wiggling puppy
of my enthusiasm & ask, will you feed this?
My sorrow is small-stomached, but happiness
is always hungry. Prepare me a feast of your anxiety & I
will eat every sin. You worry like it’s your religion, but
I hear you’re feeding parts of yourself I never could,
and my world expands through emulation —
Emulation, the opposite of envy.
I am flying. I am flying to you. You are far away.
Full of gifts I do not covet. From seeds we learn:
To love something is to leave it
long enough to grow.