Growing, Gently, and Generously

The remnants of your smile stuck in my teeth,

Lovingly roll up my gentle soul; tie it with a hairband.

The nape of my neck bare to your stares, swirls of hair,

Honey, won’t you let me sit quietly and warm my bones

In the epitome of your raw desire, it’s reckless heat,

It’s sweetened demeanor, my willful defeat.

The growth of something between you and me.

​

 

Devious, oblivious, I think I was born swinging

From anger to empathy, from destruction to sympathy.

Yet when I am with you, you hold the chains

And I am still with no wretched movement

Fighting over my weary self and the moments

That I wish I’d be able to acclaim as my own.

​

 

Tell my mother that I do not exist without you,

For we exist on the ledge that separates sleep and dreams,

And tell me everything else that exists right in between.

Let your words stain my tongue, like pomegranate seeds,

Ribcages aching, sweetened breath, arms so lean,

And maybe you won’t even have to explain

The place we exist, the one in between,

For I will know, deaf and mute,

Exactly what you mean.

​

 

The gentle white spots on the back of a young deer,

The flashing of streetlights in the rearview mirror,

The naive curiosity of Eve that ensued Adam’s fear,

The sight of my neck under a shirt that’s sheer,

The kiss that disintegrates into me when all is clear,

The ravenous hunger I harbor to wrap my teeth around

My heart to stop it from escaping when you are near.

​

Some things I wish to say are just meant to be,

So sometimes, there is no need for me to speak,

For what is clear will be defined between the blur

That exists between the hearts and what I can see.

There is something so sweet growing, generously,

In the heart that sits in me, that waits so impatiently.

​

 

Your honeyed love, the things that are a part of you,

All of those wonderful things wrap around my brain.

Like grape vines, growing gently, so generously,

And I find my own veins intertwined with them,

With you, and I too grow, gently and generously.

The sprouting of buds that occurs within me,

Nourished from the core, to the root, to the stem,

Your kindness lands on those frail leaves, droplets

That gleam with pride, like jeweled ornaments.

​

 

I find my poetry grows like a wild bush, hungry.

When we are apart and when you are beside me,

And although I try to halt my heart from trembling,

To stop crimson roses from sprouting in my lungs,

My poetry deceives me — my words grow so lively,

Like a potted plant that has been put in the free land.

​

 

For the very first time during its existence and entirety.

I smile — parts of me, intertwined with you,

Grow so gently and generously,

Despite you not having a clue.