I.  The Him

I came to you and said,
"I am a tree."

You tickled my feet.

(Unearthed.
Mortified.)

I loved you once;
you loved me once;
and there was trust.

I’m going to plant flowers on your grave.
I will not lay them there.
I will dig into the dirt,
not so far as to find you,
but enough to plant
for the tulips to grow.

They’ll be yellow
because I love yellow--
that's why I'll put them there.
Because there is
actually
something in this world I love.

You came in me and said,
"I am free."

II. The Him in You

Did you want
a lullaby?
Did you want
a bitch?
A yelping dog to drool and grumble
like her song comes from her belly?

I am
a bitch.
I wrap my tiny babyteeth around the wire fence.

I know you dreamed I was trapped in a box;
I was naked, you recall. You groan at the thought.

Then all at once,
you apparoch the Botecelli angel with
anxiety.
Your blondes do not match,
your green and blue will not mix to his taste
to make the sea the right color.
You are not Venus
and no, I never was.

But he
may be.

III.  The World

I am a tree.
I am fat of leaves.
I am fucked through
with earth.
Papa earth—
he’s covered in soil.