01/03

last year of sunflowers

we wasted the yellow
tossing it up in the air
like an infant. instead,
we could have held more
beam & glisten. i bought you 
everything our land could hold.
a tree of pearls. silk worms
for mending ever scism 
in our post-helicopter skin.
taking the fine china
out of cabinet for
a wedding attended only
by ghosts. we should have
at the very least, washed out faces
in the glow. all your freckles
turned to mouse feet.
there was one on every block
that year. sunflowers laughing,
throwing their heads back.
all sunflowers 
are boys. did you know that?
i didn't until it was too late.
here i was saying 
"she is dead she is dead she is."
once one said to me,
"you would make a wonderful 
monument." i nodded.
i would. i consider it sometimes
when you leave your socks out
like unskilled coin purses.
i had a jar left. just a smear.
the yellow humming 
with memories of opening 
in april. i make a fist 
& let it relax. extend fingers wide.
hold a snake skull. eat
a golden apple where once
used to live our coupling.
i mistake insects for seeds.
carried a lady bug
all the way to the bowl of soil.
pressed her into the dirt,
dreaming she could become
another flower. perfect
as i used to see your lips.
instead, i watch 
as she crawls free.

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