Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
do not talk to me
as if i do not
how the cycles
of this world work.
how the moon turns
the tides,
how the sequoia
trees grow their roots,
how the honeybees turn
flowers into sweet nectar.

i do not pretend
to be able to see
the fabrics of the universe,
i do not claim
to analyse every
atom in your name
under a microscope.

i am not a child, wondering
how the birds are always
able to find their way south.
how the salmon know
exactly where
they were born,
how the sun moves
across the sky.

would you still love me
if you realized that
my tongue is ringed like
the centre of a tree,
my finger-bones are as
sharp as stalactites,
my mouth is as salty
sweet as the ocean.

do not talk to me like
i do not already know
that you will drift
away, eventually, like
anything i ever let slip
out of my fingers
and drop - plop! -
into the river’s depths.
Written by
mari  22/F/canada
   Janelle Tanguin and Karijinbba
Please log in to view and add comments on poems