the life cycle

late in the night i 
come apart amphibially,
a pile of frogs eggs,

each one heartbeat throbbing 
in the sheets.  

i want you to

put your hands in me.

a jar of apricot jam.

soft planets. the embryo eyes
flicking, 

the world of commas.

all night the life cycle goes
& you watch as i become 

a floor full of tadpoles,
thrashing & gill gasping,

put me in your mouth
to carry me to the bathroom,

all my bodies swimming

i taste like rain.

i would do the same for you.
don't swallow, not yet at least.

let the frogs go free though,
all over the house
& back to wet themselves
in the tub. 

i just need to use my legs,

starting with just one limb
at a time, their growth like 
pulling carrots from dirt,

don't watch me, this is personal

then again i watch you 

getting dressed, the way

you roll up your socks 
before pulling them on

don't you ever want to spend
the night like this?

it's only because i can't sleep

i promise 

i want to say i'm not usually
like this but i am

i'm a wet merry-go-round body

& at some point all the fronts 
break like jars of marbles

back into eggs.

the whole process takes about an hour.

i'm sorry.

i'm sorry i really am this isn't
your job.

you pick me up & take me back to bed,
piling the eggs up,

get some rest before 
i get up again,

wrap your arms around them,

soft & warm &
quiet

go to sleep now
you whisper

& the first egg swells,
the tadpoles coming back,

spilling on the wood floor.

i go all night.