It’s a terrible thing to hold back that which springs in you;

the great ocean holds me
waist high in the crush of waves,

it’s none of my business
the way I love you.

The small ships of small talk,
launch bravely over waterways,
so noble, white sails snap
wildly-

it’s none of my business
the way my heart beats.

It’s this lack of control,
that makes the earth
belly flop into bloom.

No use in hiding, the yellow stain of pollen,
the pink mouths of the cherry blossom
gulping in air.

How could I hide
something as brilliant as this?

I politely hold the door open,
for whomever may walk through.

I shadow dance in my sleep
with a boy god sitting too close
to the sun.

I take out my flute.
I play a sad and sentimental love song.

I have been the everything in nothing.

Does it matter how ripe the fruit is
before you eat?