honeysuckle lions

we went into the sugar
to be caramelized as martyrs.
my shoes on the merri-go-round
& my face painted on the back
of a beetle. the bush grows 
like a dead man's beard.
wild rush. all the life of 
last year, sweet & seeping. 
i remember feeding you my tongue.
did it taste like rain? we plucked 
ticks from behind each other's ears.
purses of blood. who comes 
to your stream to drink?
i am flowing & flowering away.
at night i hear the bushes.
they growl like a coloseum.
like they are begging for more 
sacrifices. greedy plant with 
her throat caught up in all 
her lies. no i am not a boy today.
no you cannot pluck off my hands
to use as love poems. i remember
how easy it was to gather
the humming birds & say 
listen, there are not enough ways
to explain i am losing myself in you.
their beaks in my ears. call me 
a seraph with unrly several faces
& no god left to harbor.
harvest me. tell your friends i am wild
& i will let the worms know 
exactly where my hair lives now. 

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