in the strands of april sun

i light the burnt end of

the palo santo

i bought in Chile

two years ago

red rocks and salt flats

i asked

the alien Andean sky

how can you burn through something 

that’s already ash?

it answered me in sugar

with a lime tinged tongue

like an unidentified object

i crash landed in your life;

it’s the only way i know how

to come to a stop

your hand is a baby bird and mine is a lizard

scaly and

tender together

flamingos are born

concrete grey

they get their color

through the algae they eat

i tell you this

for no reason at all

i wish the desert could see

cherry blossoms sigh to the streets like confetti

the tulips splay open

a private parade

i molt into you

do you dream about me?

ceramic shards of your organs

snaking like shower water

my body an open sewer

you polish my wounds

you

hang me

by the roots

in the underbrush

lithium lined landscapes

i gloat 

to the mountains

that plants can grow

in my heart