A Lover’s Weightlessness Is Not Transferred

grass clogging my throat
like uncooked rice, it lines my body’s smallest

tubes and is growing, taking root in my lungs and
stomach and intestines, raking my walls, new seeds

that flower like a cloud in bloom. bloated brome,
sucking nutrients from my blood,

changing colors like abused chloroplasts
brimming with oxygen-redness, your talking is becoming

hard to hear, sentences breaking like cornstalks
to a tiller, we aren’t going much farther

I will not travel lightly,
you are not my portal, in the mirrors of

your eyes I see I sprout as I speak, stems breaking my teeth,
seedheads circling with every breath. I am their weather

growing old without you wasn’t the plan
shackle yourself, I won’t float away

not with this much soil marrow, worm-filled loam
that darkens with every hollow note

of earth’s solemn promise: the sun will rise
and I am not rescued, a home for all but you

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