Love Poetry: The Guts. The Wits. The Grace.

by Amanda Lewis
(Portsmouth, Ohio, USA)

'With guts
I'd leap barefoot from sharply pointed peak to peak,
swing through sunsets across a vivid sky,
chase falling stars with butterfly nets
to bring to you in glass jars that light your bedside
when you're afraid of the dark.

With wits
I'd have you laughing so
that the sound of your voice echoed around the earth,
cheeks burning with the splitting of endless smiles,
the perfect blue of your bright eyes
playing the drums inside my chest.

With grace
I'd let you drive away
and ask that you never see nights spent crying into a pillow meant for two,
missing the smell of cigarette hands on a tattooed boy who left
because he had the guts, the wits, the grace, to follow his faith.'

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