You
are the music of two grasshoppers
making love in a school yard
where four-year-olds ask me,
what are the grasshoppers doing?
and I tell them they’re dancing to the music of
You
are the gaps in my ribcage
where the sunrise winds through to my heart and
You
are the part of the sunset that is so pink
the grasshoppers think maybe we should stop and watch
You
are the moon when it bloomed for the first time
and a child inspired unwound the lid of a jar
that set ten-thousand grasshoppers free and
You
drive me fucking crazy.
I mean insanely.
You make me wanna take a fork to my eyeballs,
rip the hair from my armpits
and shove it down my throat
‘cause I would rather choke
than argue another minute with you
but you are so
pretty.
And smart.
You know so many words.
You’re every poem I would write
if ink could ever hold the light
that glows from your toes when you’re climbing up trees.
Girl, I swear ya got sap running thick in your veins
and I never love you more
than when you’re mouring the death of raindrops
falling forsaken on pavement.
God, I love how you hate pavement…
I wanna eat you like a… not a vulture
a swan.
I wanna eat you like swans eat flowers.
Baby, if swans ever ate flowers
I would eat you like that for hours.
Except when you’re sour
and acting like a self-righteous grumpy old grump
like ya do sometimes,
‘cause those times
you make me wanna run to the edge of the fucking world
and hurl myself into a black fucking hole
and never come back ever.
And then there’re the times I wanna
be with you forever and follow you forever
wherever you go
if only for the freckle in the middle of your belly
that’s just like mine,
or the time you corrected me for saying man
instead of human kind.
I can’t believe I did that.
You are a dream.
We are a nightmare sometimes.
But if you wake up terrified
I’ll be there to hold you,
fold you in the pockets of my faith
and say, “We’ll be ok.”
andrea gibson
