Your heart is an empty vessel

a poem

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

it’s like butterflies, right?
but, like, if butterflies had hooves
or elephant’s feet

I feel silly when a text
gets me euphoric
in the thumbs,
my arms waving

mentally, a small victory,
when the thought of him
makes me masturbate
like, at least four times today

maybe I should write
about the inner workings
of having two lovers
(its not a secret — we’re a poly people)

what its like having
your head spin
in two directions,
two sets of dynamic thrills

maybe I should write
about how I fantasize
of finding some tangible thing
to fill what’s missing

isn’t that what we’re all
trying to do?
Fill the hole?

Our hearts are an empty
vessel, hands search
for anything that will pour
inside