My Stone Shoes

I was wearing my stone shoes
to walk across the broken glass.
You bought me sugar socks; you’re so sweet.

I took my knife and carved
a tree’s name into its bark.
You translated Italian into Italian. Huh?

I took a kite’s colorful tail
and wrapped it around Benjamin’s neck.
You gave him CPR with your vagina.

I took my stone shoes
and mashed the beans for supper.
You took the red rind from the tortillas.

You’ve been my muse for over forty years,
I hope it never stops.
No one can stick toothpicks in my eyes like you.