Some nightmares are so vivid
they follow you into reality

first language
mother tongue
my body
my home

Not everyone will have a
palette
like your own
You crave new flavors
no one's ever heard of
The way those tangerine skies
just melt on your tongue
Cottony with golden hues,
it was your divine taste
in how you painted stories
The flavors,  spices and frothy words
made my lips tingle
Your hunger is what really kills me
You fill up on books ever night,
crisp waxy paper sticking to your
delicate fingers
The books pile high and you're still not full
Hunger is always a familiar
feeling
And the stacks of novels never seem to disappoint me with its height

I hinge upon you
you are the fulcrum
of all my motion

If you will take anything
Take only my heart
For poor as it is
I have nothing else of worth

If you speak
Speak to it gently
For it is ignorant of all things
Save love for you

If you journey
Carry it carefully
For it overflows
With need for you

If you wish to keep it
Forever it is yours
For it can never
Fit the hands of another

If you go
Do not return it
For I will have no need
Of an empty heart

I woke up from a night of pain
But you kissed my face with morning joy