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.