sometimes we
unearth things
we unrecognize
as ours
when on a new site
armed with our
finest keenest most
definitely polished tools
each nestled in
their own
leather sheath of course
each winking saucily in
the sun no we don’t know us
not even when
dusting off each
find with our
own eyelashes
sifting sediment from
sentiment
with our mouths
with some great
earnest no
we unremember
the chrysalis
shards of our
unloved bodies
but yes please
let’s restudy
us all the
same
i do not think
of you
not when the blue birds
figure eight
under the clouds
not when the sharp
green fang of
spring gives way to
debutante frills
not even once
when the storm of
butterflies
flew up into
the mists between
the trees
not the gasp of
delight
not the months
that do razor by
not the minutes it takes
the sun to finally sleep
not the courage of
the moon
who fasts for
us all
not
ever
truth is weeds
that grow hardy in
cracked dirt
sidewalk crevices
snaking along
a fence line
yellow and busted open
wild and friendly
consistent
all year long growing
thorny when threatened
faces towards the sun
green tendrils touching
unexpectedly
soft and velvety
(yes)
we are
weeds loving weeds
living anyway
loving the only way
we know how
you
and
me
place a gem on
the window sill
for every day since
we stood
this close
build a glittering
temple with all
the stones that
finally
threatened to form
a mountain
rival the constellations
with the shimmering city
i now live in
but only
when no one
is looking
the sickest
black on
every tree
a shiny blistered
mile or so
of charred skeletons
ticky tacky
tired twists
still in salute to the
brooding
boo-hooing sky
and at their
feet
green velvet
grown so
plush it
stands on its
own shoulders
and has begun to
climb
but darling
if i could
make you
a flask of
it would
you
please tell me you
oh my lord
can you just
drink
there in the longest
shadow of
winter
formed a bud
a bud of such
perfect sloe eyed pink
of such lush green
dewy blanketing
of such singular
experience because
nothing this gorgeous
would ever dare to
bloom
again
yet this bloom can be
held by anyone
a future flower of
understanding
tearing out of
it’s own thorny
heart oh
holiest of
holy
love
i waved into the distance
and asked
can you hear that
whippoorwill
and don’t you think
she sounds sad
you inclined your
head how you do
when you are startled
i didn’t know that sad sound
was coming from
outside of
me
i did not wish for
sorrow to light
on my shoulder and
dig it’s claws into
my flesh until
i began to see
sorrow’s shadow
along with my own
i did not ask for
a forever companion
one that gnashes its teeth
all night
drinks too many cups
of coffee
squirrels away
good things
in case the
the good things
expire
loses words like
breadcrumbs
until it forgets
how to write at all
unrememembers how
to laugh
i did not ask for
sorrow yet
sorrow
asked for
me
you are not a
necromancer
of the heart you
cannot cut your own
wrist and hold it
to the lips of
heartache and
say
eat baby
you cannot chop
off all the tender
branches and
call a scalped
thing
reborn
you cannot
spin your web around
a memory and call it
lunch
but you will and
there in the valley
of despair
you will
plant you
again
i had a dream that
you brought me jewels
that you swam up on
my shores
salty and thirsty
as ever
threw yourself on
my soft swelling
dunes
shook yourself off
and with a roar
showed me a
mouth full of your
hard shiny
love
