Bicycle cards flap in the air;
the window was left open as I jumped
from your second story, onto the
patch of Maiden grass, braced by
feather reed and Bonsai.

I know you’re shouting
– but I don’t care; I’ve always had a flair
for sudden upheavals, abrupt
endings, moments of abandon
that commandeer me.

I have never been a ship
just passing in the night, but rather
a reef that deploys from the deep,
runs aground your belly,
scrapes your dreams raw.

The road that wends,
I curve to slide into it, and lull
wandering soles down paths that lead
into the kingdoms that house
the surefooted gods.

I’d prefer a mockery, to your
obsessions with bended knees, tiresome
Christian churches that bade me
to seal my juice in a jar,
set in a kitchen to age.

I am not some flower
for you to plant in a pot, water me
when I wilt and lean, have me yearning
for a sun you place slight beyond my reach,
snip me, should I grow unruly.

I’ll sleep with a woman,
a man, with you, should I choose,
should I like your hair,
appreciate your taste, be surprised
by an uncommon element you’ve sprung.

When all is said and done
I love you, even as I am pretending
to be hating you, even as I am
a shadow off your drainpipe,
a smudge on your stars.

Sorry for any pain I might have caused;
know it was never my intent.
But I’ve mercury
for a heart. I’m a bit of a liar,
telling the truthful tales.