The Zone by the Fire

i watched as she inserted a tiny key into my heart
and gave it a sharp twist,
and asked me to lay down on her couch for a quick
therapy session by the fire,
during which she would once again shrink my head
to the size of a pea.
and i became ever more obsessed
as i visualized vegetables sitting on my bedside table
by the lamp which held a shade
shaped like ballooning breasts, when she told me it was normal to
covet carrots in the morning with my coffee, as she often did.
if she was to become the root of my eventual recovery,
i wondered why she trailed a beach towel
to the flapping garden door of a black and blue cabana
and giggled uncontrollably
when i said there was room inside for two.
i saw her chair before she sat and it reminded me of an engorged penis,
and she told me it was her favorite place to sit, but she couldn't share it
with just anyone,
although i had the most poetic eyes, nose, and ears
from which she could create a sculpture of the perfect human,
if i would only undress slowly by her side.