Deep purples
like toy soldiers
the fork and knife you use
delicately.
Painted across my torso bed:
latitudinally, longitudinally.
The ever-growing understanding:
your soft oranges:
forking broccoli,
nimbly.
You weed the garden.
Careful to take the roots;
each dandelion a part.
Oxidizing the dirt
which speaks to you,
a low rumble:
Stick your unbitten hands
in sesame seeds,
reach your unbitten hands
to paint the sidewalk
with transfer chalk
in sighs and murmurs.
It would like to feel you too
it would like to see you too
it is so lovely
it is so whole
it needs your eye
for proper amount
it needs your rhythm
for proper time
let it chasm
like you were put on this earth to
let it fracture
like the concrete was born to fill.
