fool

i planted pits in my palms 
& believed i could grow plum trees
before i left today with the wormy sun.
enough fruit so that i would not go hungry.
the journey came for me with an ethernet cable 
& a word of honor. it said, "the world  was made
for your to devour." i laughed & thought
i could pack all my jewels 
& run towards the sound of 
purple crowds. beauty & danger 
are twin stars. one follows the other.
you cannot have one without the other.
now, the question is was i beautiful first
or was i dangerous? 
i find myself looking at angels often.
they dazzel with their pinwheels
& sharp teeth. i wave & they do not
wave back. i do not know yet
how a body becomes an angel but i am told
there is a process that involves submitting
all your poetry to a storm cloud.
the pit grow slowly. i recieve 
one white flower & speak softly to it
all day & all night. the flower speaks back.
it says, "let's go back to where
we came from." the trouble is
i do not remember where i came from.
so i tell the flower, "we are on a crossing."
by which i mean i came from a leaving.
the departure at the center of my chest.
& so, we walk along the edge 
of the most beautiful cliff. the angels 
stare down glimmering. 
my knees are stones to overturn.
the flower is alive & i will keep her
& one day we will sit here &
look at the world eating 
our ripe nectar spilling plums.