PORTRAIT

Love 

is a perplexed newborn

fresh from the womb

afterbirth clinging to eyes

jiggling on twitching limbs

ejecting first scream

startled by its own pitch

yearning to meet the woman

whose canal it swam 

into a world of uncertainty

searching the frosty room

for directions 

back to her warmth

Love 

is 93 years old

on deathbed

best life lived

all goals accomplished

regret and debt free

unbothered by its

dwindling bodily functions

ready to fly

nothing left to do here

had all the peace

it prayed and worked for

left its healing

across the globe

so as last breath

crawls through cracked lips

they melt serenely

into a smile 

shaped like contentment

Love 

wears skirts and three-piece suits

smells good

speaks a pretty language

gives hope

does dishes without being asked

remembers birthdays

anniversaries 

says please and thanks

lemme get that for you

shows up for everyone

with bells on

even itself

Love 

is also covered 

in skull-and-bone tattoos

wears durags and bandanas

sports a mouth full of gold

drinks too much sometimes

gets into arguments

cusses a little

or a lot

depending on the day

and who pushed the envelope

too far

serves an unnerving side-eye

misses the mark 

of righteousness weekly

but always

opens wife's doors

never pulls off

with her in the passenger seat

of the vintage Impala

without ensuring her sundress

is properly draped

across her thighs

touches her like

its job is to guarantee

she never breaks

kisses her sweetly 

on the nose 

every night before bed 

is introspective 

remorseful

and willing 

to do better next time

After bullies

took new kid's lunch

Love 

broke its turkey sandwich

and the last brownie

it fought its brother for

that morning

in half

with post-playground hands

and shared

Dashed into the street

commanded erratic traffic

like a salaried crossing guard

scooped up a near-slain bird

bare-handed

and sprinted its limp body

two miles to the vet

Occasionally

Love 

sleeps through the alarm

wakes up groggy

and takes half the day off

cuz it ain't always

runnin' on a full tank

but

never lets itself deplete

Somebody shoulda told you

Love and Exhaustion

are on a first-name basis 

In the real world

Love 

goes to prison

for losing its temper

deep in 

the barrel of a gun

the thrust of a blade

for losing control

behind the wheel of a car

CNN will fill you in

on Monday's "Things got out of hand"

Thursday's "It wasn't supposed

to happen like that"

Sunday's "But...it was an accident"

Last week

Love 

stole four-figure meds 

for Gran-Gran

diapers and food for the twins

and lied on the job application

Somebody shoulda told you

Love 

does whatever 

it thinks is necessary 

to survive and save lives

Judge if you want

but till you've hobbled

Forrest Gump miles

in this Love's oppressive shoes

fearing the worst

for people you adore best

just smile

wave

then look the other way

Today

Love 

didn't brush its teeth

comb its hair

or shower

cuz Love 

don't always feel 

a hundred percent

but that don't mean

it won't try to give it

So it crunched

a handful of Altoids

across plaqued teeth

put on its most appropriate hat:

the Nike beanie

prayed it wouldn't smell

like what it had been through

the day before 

and went

where it was needed most

Love 

is good at being

where it's needed most

and known 

for being tightly tucked

in places 

it can't be recognized

How many faces of Love

have you seen?

How many faces of Love

have you been shown?

How many faces of Love

have you worn?

©2024 Charlene E. Green