Email Poem

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Poem

I know you would come to my poem
Like a tree, being fully clothed
With spades and measuring lines
To dig for roots in syllables of mine
Unearthing the buttress to shine.
Making a mess of the ground is how
You prove the tree where beauty grows.

I have watched you with it a full hour
O what a regular baby you are
Banging for its entrails like a toy
Shredding it limb by limb and making
Sure it never bear fruit differently
After you are done. I am enjoying
You enjoying the violence done to it.

Some came here tenderly before
To pick its bloosoms as gifts for love
Or fragrance the tomb of death
Where petals wither stemless and poor
Dissected from the discourse of my life.
You must never pick a flower
Let it die upon the stem, and seed from
There, the earth with poems again.

I come to you like a lover, a bringer
And not a taker of others joy
Sniffing your body on its stem
Lissom on the cool curves of wind
I come to you naked to feel
Your soft kisses of dew on my skin
To let your balmy aroma heal
My sensibilities broken like a kite.

We are two poems, O let us speak 
Aloud the taste of words upon the tongue
And feel the magic of meaning swell
Beyond the verbs of what we seek.
Let us expose our breast of colors
Upon the milk of thirsty eyes
Let us give the old traditionalist shivers
And fondle only with our surprise.

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