cow heart garden

in the first chamber we were 
burger-hungry & ready to grind. 
pushed meat through a hole the size
of a penny & waited on the other side
for a process to begin. often, the flowers
bloomed like severe hearts. pink blood
in our faces. the oxygen blue 
of early july. then, in the second 
we asked each other's middle names.
held them like quarters for a future
machine. made all the wonderful 
unkeepable promises. your nose against
my neck. your body a school of rings.
all the while the cows crouched
on their hind legs trying to be teenagers.
we snacked on onion grass & drank 
milk from the stream. wiped our lips
with leaves. in the garden, the sky 
lilted towards sherbet but we didn't bring
any spoons. alas a missed opportunity 
for a headache. our shoes floating
like viking funerals down the creek.
a snake in the grass asking for 
our vascular systems. i wanted so badly
to make a life out of you. carve your face
into a foyer or a vestibule & likewise
you hung your leopard print coat
on my back. in the third chamber
the drought arrive & made all the life
clench. field of fists. the heart itself,
tired from its own animalness.
turned butterfly with waiting. flew
down my throat & then you were gone.