© Christopher Raine


Lines with Eyelashes

My wife is flailing her arms,
flipping her fingers,
frantically emphasizing expressions,
and I’m just saying,
“Baby, I didn’t take no goddamn
sign language pill!”
She laughs, then smiles
with a waxing gibbous grin,
the kind that delights a room;
her eyes, mere-squinting lines
with eyelashes
God, I love her laugh
and the way she brings me down,
just enough to keep me humble
She keeps me real,
as any real thing can be,
concrete and firm
She’d hate me saying, “concrete”
like the way she believes herself to be
Inferior somehow,
but let me tell you,
she’s the better part of wisdom
while I’m just smoking in the clouds