Keratin Traditions

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My wife tells me to cut my nails,
“They are too long honey” she tells me

And I chip my talons one by one
Until she is smiling from ear to ear

And when I kiss her, at those musky places
She tells me I need a clean shave

And I go and clean the stubs on my cheeks.
It seems my wife’s body is like

A pin cushion with tickle and prickle receptors
And my keratin tips are prickly pins

And love is a centerfield of minuscule deeds
Traditions that surface and resurface

Change and tweak, tinker and toy
Until all the brevities are asphalted

To journey on paved highways
To yesteryear’s endearment.

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