Love Poem: Still Starts When It's Cold

Still Starts When It's Cold

she walks into the room
the same way she has for 40 years—
half-asleep mumbling about the price of eggs
but crap, she still makes my heart stop. 

you’re the last busted payphone 
that somehow still dials home. 
you’re the only damn thing 
that still makes sense
in a world full of unpaid bills and 
broken air conditioners. 

your heart’s a busted radiator
still kicking out heat when I need it most. 

The cigarette burn on our old kitchen counter—
scarred in, not going anywhere. 

hell, you’re a rusted-out truck that
still starts when the whole damn world’s frozen over.

we aren’t perfect but we lasted. 
and that’s better than any damn valentine poem.