full moon
full heart
empty bed
that's a start.
the thing desired
once it comes
is a tree of life.
the things you are to me
root me in earthen soil
and clay
and desire
your branches reach toward the ceiling
of the sky
and the roof
of my mouth
your roots twist around my ankles
and pull and squeeze and beg me
and let me know
you are still there.
even if your
leaves are scattered
and fallen
and I have burned some
and someone else collects them
to adorn her hair
Saturday, September 01, 2012
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