Botanical Time Lapse Video
The shiny green flies pass through need into pleasure
and lapse into love. Oh they marry the chicory and the ragweed many times a day, say yes over and over again, crawl over each others’ hairy glinting bodies to say yes once more. The union is real, whether or not they know the blossoms shut at 3 p.m. and these new wives will never return. That which we do for the future is a drunkenness and the only clock that matters ticks down each second between my longing and the day I fall into its hot fragrant mouth. We go into the orchard for apples. But what we carry back is the soft nose of the horse and his giant stained teeth, crushing wormy fruit into juice that sprays my feet. So fast, the sweetness gone, two crunches and the teeth threatening to nip for more. The season hovers suspended for the afternoon, glittering green and tasting our sweat. Always and always we want more apples, more pollen, more kisses, more breeze and light that moves in clear yellow shapes on our hair. More of what we have, just different, and forever. The other night you said “you only want me sleeping,” some figurative accusation of enforced domesticity, but aren’t you the one who ordered all the fantastic bedsheets from e-bay that have begun to arrive in the mail? If you’re so opposed to being tamed, why then the melting sherbet suns and cacti, the crystal spires of blue and beige, the maroon flowerscapes, sinister as childhood wallpaper, and matching pillowcases too? Tonight I turn the covers down to a tiny world I’ve never seen before, animals and fruit trees, earth and sky, two lovers, repeating, in the grass. Let’s lie down upon everything you won’t admit you long for. Why would I deny I want you sleeping? When I covet the moment of your waking. Come to bed, love, let’s begin. |