Hers beats with life,
as strong as the sound
of a kettledrum
with a peach delicacy,
securely loving and free.

Mine must be oblong,
a polygon of sodden
corrugated cardboard,
stapled loosely in brass
and sharp at the edges.

But together,
we found a frequency,
tethered in tempo,
and that’s how I know,
sincerely so,
she’s the one.