Kimora Hornbeak Poet Free verse

Eliza

I will plunge my hands into the deep brown earth
To pluck the wild, velvet flowers,
And wait for you to teach me how to bind them—
An art I only want to learn from you.
I’ll lay them upon your hair, a quiet crowning,
Claiming you as the sovereign of my world,
And though I’ll never tell you the burning reason why,
My eyes will say it all.

I’ll watch you climb toward the sky,
And steal a thousand pictures of your joy,
Until the bark makes your palms tremble
And you fall back into the waiting grass.
I will tumble down beside you,
So my hands, too, carry the sting of the wood,
Both of us marked by the same adventure,
Your arms lifting me as we fall together.

When you press your lips to my forehead,
My cheek, my nose, or my hands,
I will hold my breath,
Pretending it’s just a casual thing you do,
Even when my heart tells me
It’s the only holy thing I know.

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