The Part of Me You Choose

The part of me you choose 

to declare is fragile with thoughtfulness 

or some such sideways noun spilled over onto 

the page that stays an illusion, optical 

and haptic bait-and-switch. I promise myself 

to undo your voiced suppositions thinly 

disguised as love as to warn me 

to protect myself. I choose to love 

beyond you and your abalone shell surface 

painted over a flat color 

to go with the room. Your reedy voice 

that does not sing, but bassoons its way 

into my steely sense of 

hearing.