pineapple love poem

when i met you
the fruit grew from my ribs 
like a thousand televisions.
all night i dream of us
in a forest of radios. i turn them
to any station & each holds
your voice. tell me a story about
a time you ate a planet.
i was so young & i would climb
the maple tree in the old school yard.
looking for fresh wild mars. 
knife in my pocket. quartering 
the fruit into managable flesh.
you say you like to look at my mouth
& all i can think of is feeding you flowers.
in another life we were two trees 
whose arms knotted in one another.
laughed so loud we bore pineapple
in the Pennsylvania winter.
fed anyone who passed by. you give me
the love of fishes. there is a school
of me & more & more scales 
that juggle sunlight. proliferating light.
we sit in my parked car & i have enough 
to tell to fill a species. questions & confessions.
i want to build you a thrown of nectar. 
a bed of lamb's ear. a life of rest & maypoles.
so, look at my mouth.
i am going to tell you 
everything i know 
about pineapple.