This is the revision of the litany on my hubby's bits from a few weeks ago. And I decided that though I don't like two as much as one, I would for the moment include both of them. Don't ready this if it will make you gurk.
one
My bumble, my bell's tongue, my softness
and power -- my dowser, my heartthrob, the bird
in my bower. My acorn, my nest egg, my own
leaning tower-- my wand and my fiddlehead,
my sweet and my sour. My pillar of salt, my turtlehead
flower.
two
their ruffled skin like cloud has beauty
made of science, chance -- a shifting whimsy
that makes me laugh into your fur
how like new leaves the skin will unfurl
and tighten, how like new butterflies
they stir themselves full of blood,
pink words in the mouth of flowers.
I say "slurk"; you say "gurk"; and the dictionary says neither is a word. Shows what they know.
[Love the poem, by the way.]