LoVe

It is the sight of fresh water pearls strung on metal Carbon monoxide exhale-halting, then inhaling cologne grenades It is perishing in debris and holding onto October's ashes It is "I send you my love" in congealed blood It is a sparkler-drawn heart among glowing white smoke It is black bird sighing when his grip is too tight on my waist, anxiously fragrant of drunk butterfly-velocity And I still blew out dandelions I still blew them out It is instants of touch, dancing scattered steps with doubt, wax -stamped upon lips It is a compilation of bodies and fading and the persistence of weeping willow curses. It is calm, because when you sleep, I sleep It is the garden of genuine poetry bleeding when lost in you, in my veins, in my hands And it's dried dandelions encased in glassy June, falling through holes Falling, falling, falling into sunlight, intoxicated It is he, holding me and all this weight With ease and reassurance that I am in fact, light| And I forget if he's referring to pounds or lack of darkness It is blinking away the blues the day he arranged 4 letters my way And it's believing in flowers, and falling Falling seed-wishes, sincere And I pray Heaven is as kind.....

of weeping willow curses