oyster mushrooms 

i wore a dress of oyster mushrooms
when i stood on your tongue 
like a bride. you said,
"they taste just like meat."
i roll my eyes. that is something
only a carnivore would say.
all the mushrooms danced & tried
to speak for the first time. 
the mushrooms for centuries 
have had a language that lives
only underneath their tongues.
aloud it sounded like water lapping
against a river rock. like beads
falling from a roof & onto the street.
i wished i know less of my own langauge.
how it had come from your mouth
like dog food & saw dust. i had
lived inside what words like 
"want" & "forever." 
i wasn't dressed for the occasion
as none of us are when we are 
told to be beautiful. your mouth
was damp & ravenous. i had promised
i would go as deep as i could. 
everything smelled like
crush dinosaur bones. 
a mouth can be anywhere you go
to confess. the mushrooms voices
echoing. i was my dress then 
the dress was me. i told you i loved you
in the language of mycorrhiza
but it was not nearly enough. 
i wanted to show you all the ways 
my body can speak.
talking with me in your mouth.
are we always to nest
inside our lovers imaginations?
here is where the mushrooms
give me wings.
you wanted a bowl of my hair
& to scour my body for spores.
i held a bouquet of mushrooms.
the mushrooms said in their voice
heavy with pebbles
"she wants to be a root."
he laughed & said,
"don't we all."