As the rose garden is a thief to the day, I am a thief to it at night
I feel the earth, the soil still buzzing with the sun’s warmth
I feel the earth like a chest, the soil is the same temperature as the inside of my mouth, and I
understand I could be buried here and remain very much alive
I determine bees and insects are asleep (do they sleep?)
if insects sleep, is heaven paralyzed like this garden?
like maybe photos in a picture book.
and the bugs live for only a few days, science tells me,
and yet they beat their wings and know exactly what to do
if I had them would I know how just as they do?