Letra de Garden
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I’m nothing if I can’t remove the thunder from your head; I’ll take you to the garden and put you to bed where we can forget to water our clocks until the hands wilt and drop and we’ll plant subtle lions in our flower beds and you’ll ask if I’ll do the same for you one day. I would.
We’ll expose our roots and you can you knit rivers that beg for warmer days and fill the valleys that have run dry, where the old have gone to die and revitalize the light that tries to rise to the vicious beasts in the sky that can only be seen from the corner of our eyes.
And when you don’t feel well, I’ll sip the venom that you can’t spit until I’m full and sick and it’ll be worth it. If your leafs’ turn red and drop from your gorgeous head and your branches ache and creak at night, I’ll attempt to write only the prettiest words I can think of. And if I only repeat your name a dozen times, I hope you’re okay with that.
When I fall asleep, I’ll let you annotate my dreams where I watch you pray as I craft glass bottom boats that never float but drown in wheelchair seas. Where my hands flower into parrot pitchers to trap the spiders that grow in your chest. Where I spend hours removing my own teeth and planting them in your backyard in an attempt to grow a God who can create something as beautiful as you. And when I don’t wake up you can take my plastic bones and fashion a better umbrella or a boat of your own to combat the rising tides that break through my mouth and flood your home.
I’m sorry if my hemorrhaging ink heart stains your dress and porcelain skin, if it floods your bed and stains you red but you’ve planted your seeds in my ventricles and shy saplings have grown into colossal sequoias and I’m having heart attacks in these burgeoning forests where I watch flowers swallow bees and where I can trace the trees roots to the tangles of another, bridging the distance that my fingers can’t.
When my tonsils swell into crystal glass hot air balloons and choke out the voice that can’t do justice to the poems I dream, will you hollow out my belly and write your words on my lungs? Will you sink your teeth into my bones and chew on my marrow?
Bury me in watermelon husks with painted X’s on my eyes. Spread out your roots; please get tangled with me.
We’ll expose our roots and you can you knit rivers that beg for warmer days and fill the valleys that have run dry, where the old have gone to die and revitalize the light that tries to rise to the vicious beasts in the sky that can only be seen from the corner of our eyes.
And when you don’t feel well, I’ll sip the venom that you can’t spit until I’m full and sick and it’ll be worth it. If your leafs’ turn red and drop from your gorgeous head and your branches ache and creak at night, I’ll attempt to write only the prettiest words I can think of. And if I only repeat your name a dozen times, I hope you’re okay with that.
When I fall asleep, I’ll let you annotate my dreams where I watch you pray as I craft glass bottom boats that never float but drown in wheelchair seas. Where my hands flower into parrot pitchers to trap the spiders that grow in your chest. Where I spend hours removing my own teeth and planting them in your backyard in an attempt to grow a God who can create something as beautiful as you. And when I don’t wake up you can take my plastic bones and fashion a better umbrella or a boat of your own to combat the rising tides that break through my mouth and flood your home.
I’m sorry if my hemorrhaging ink heart stains your dress and porcelain skin, if it floods your bed and stains you red but you’ve planted your seeds in my ventricles and shy saplings have grown into colossal sequoias and I’m having heart attacks in these burgeoning forests where I watch flowers swallow bees and where I can trace the trees roots to the tangles of another, bridging the distance that my fingers can’t.
When my tonsils swell into crystal glass hot air balloons and choke out the voice that can’t do justice to the poems I dream, will you hollow out my belly and write your words on my lungs? Will you sink your teeth into my bones and chew on my marrow?
Bury me in watermelon husks with painted X’s on my eyes. Spread out your roots; please get tangled with me.
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