Dandelion Heart
A poem
Whispers next to the reservoir they named Silver
the shadow of a hawk that turned out to be a kite cast over our bare feet as they hovered above a hundred blades of grass
skinny extremities the very last part of this intertwined spaghetti mess our skin and skeletons have found themselves in
the breeze knows exactly how to glide up and over the curve of my back and through your eyelashes which I can just make out waving up and down like that Chinese cat ornament as you scan me for answers
our deprived souls were so in need of this afternoon dose of vitamin-d our thirst is obsolete in favour of staying laying on a scarf and pillows fashioned from our discarded garments
we’ll drink water later but for now, you can fish in the seas of my psyche I’ll try to be abundant I’ll try to bite and fight the urge to wriggle free when your hook pierces me
I’m mostly calm with unexpected storms my waves you can ride on and on and over and over
and I know both our hearts are just like that dandelion over there that disappears in the wind only to bloom again — in England we call those wishes.






