I lay close to you,
Curled to the shape of your stonework body
Tracing the vines crawling on your arms
To the lavenders springing
From your cracked palms
And your back is the meadow I bury myself in
Half-picking foxgloves and goldenrods
Growing on your spine

Day after day, I watch you
Wondering about the dreams behind
Your eyelids covered in moss,
Softly kissing the dandelion dust
Collecting on your cheeks
While stringing a garland of daisies
To wear around your head

I sit here, longing to taste the dewdrops
Hanging at the corners of your mouth
But until your wake, I will await
The sweet honeysuckle
That is your tongue