A sugartree wants to grow my heart is the intended field smothered by a hundred storms broke the surface and now I can heal waiting for a certain warmth like your skin and a breeze sweeping all of me like your breath my stomach is a bottomless desire for treats: eyes that wrap one like destiny, and the wavy line thrown into one's ocean: I love you; woven into the fabric of my eyelids these afternoons close on me still, empty stars flash with my longing each night I dream your sweetness humming as the tree hums when swept in a pre-empting wind: it is me searching and not finding.