And I don't care
(causing bark to
lashsnap whip the dark)
much
if I'm
(and water to drown the sky and
bugs&)
your first or last or
(the orchids
make purpleblur as they)
middleofnowhere
(carve circles&squiggles like)
because
your hair
(a toddler's sparkler)
lays on my
face just so and
(but when the morning peeks in)
I can see the small things in your
(birds flute sweetly
and grass sparklesalive)
eyes and tinytrembles and know that
(the flowers bow and dance with the sunlight)
we exchanged bright-
smiles by the downfeathers when
(opening themselves to the beestouch)
all we could see were softcurves&dips&bumps
(disregard last night's
shaking-twirling rainwater still dripping from stems)
.
And tomorrow I may lie in a still bed
(And dark clouds hang in the west)
but this morning the flowerscent drifts
through the open window