I live with a man without skin.
Each day I knit him a garment
leaving holes for his eyes and his fingertips
the better to see me, to touch me.

A man without skin is beautiful.
You can see the coursing of his thought
the electric fires.
But every treasure needs a sack.

This man predicts the weather
not only here but everywhere.
The rub is that he cannot change it.
The flood a world away fills him with tears.

I live with a man who casts off
possessions like chains.
I have to be careful
to carry my own weight.

I live with a man who speaks with animals.
Animal is his first language.
Dialect: Cat.
He is not fluent in people.

I love a man who seeks order
in a world of disorder.
He doesn’t know the rule of hunger.
I come armed with a broom and a spoon.