His grandmother named me golden honey
As she dipped a silver spoon under my tongue
She reminded me I spoke like Kentucky
Voice lilted in the breath expanding my lungs
My unrequited named me brighter than the effervescent sun
As she stared at me from a foreign satellite
Unaware that I had long since passed
And my light was only verse, only memorized
My love called me a flower, using the Latin name
Planted me in his garden, watered me through my ears
Unaware I was a late bloomer, he still tended day by day
My roots would not encircle-burrow-my stem sprouted no leaves
I replaced my name with something heavy, like Wagner
Holding myself down through my chest
Replaced my name with something heavy, like Strauss
Echoing transfiguration and death -
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC