that tasted like popcorn
and dirt; warm, and then
Alive.


The grass separates itself into individual blades
that glitter          and    dance
                                              under the sky
like a million knives
floating
              on
    the
            afternoon
                               tide.

Friend, I want to grow roots with you.
                                                                ­  I want to make a home in you.

I am as raw as a newborn.
All that my body can handle
is the sweet juice of a peach
                                        
                                         running
                                           down
                                             my
                                            neck.

I never knew the sky could open as it has,
                                                       could fill me with cloud,
                             and the dust of what the first atoms
have left behind for us.

My body is a torch
to light       with the world of your palms.
Use dandelions
                          as matches.


I am stripped of all pretense, bones
free of caveat and nicety.
Now, it is time to live as an
earthworm does. Softly, naked:
on the cheek of the
                                                        earth.