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,
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.