‘Every Square Inch’: A Poem by Frank Rable

.

Every Square Inch

Her every square inch, her breath, and her voice,
In all this and more my soul can rejoice.
The beat from her heart, the wink from her eye,
The times she is bold, and then she is shy.

The cute upturned nose, and the curve of her ears,
The smile she gives and sometimes her tears,
The touch of her hand, the smell of her hair,
And I really love her shape like a pear.

Even an eyelash, what a loss it would be,
Never, no never—that’d be painful to see.
I can’t believe in a day without her.
I can’t conceive of her gone in a blur.

And yet, and yet, there’s a day it’s now true,
The doctor reports what’s happened to you.
Will you tell us, Doctor, what can we do?
Please not that word you know is taboo.

Her every square inch is precious you see,
You must not let cancer take her from me.
There is still an answer, not yet too late.
Remove it now, this must be her fate.

For her dear life she fought and paid a steep price.
In surgery that was rolling the dice.
The deal she made was to give up some more.
Removing the bad but keeping her core.

She asked of me, “Will you love me still now?
I am missing a bit I once was endowed.
Though I can walk free of cancer’s cruel claims,
A piece of my body no longer remains.”

Yes, I love her, and I am not deprived,
For each and every bit that survived.
This beautiful woman, she lives for me still.
Of course I love her, and I always will.

Her every square inch, her breath, and her voice,
In all this and more my soul can rejoice.
The beat from her heart, the wink from her eye,
The times she is bold, and then she is shy.

.

.

Frank Rable is a poet living in Pennsylvania.