i was close enough to see the veins in your eyes branch and dip under each iris, a sort of protective shield against everything your eyes saw when they opened or closed. my throat was flaking into snowy chalk in the hope of knowing where the roots of the branches were parked and what the tree would look like in full bloom. my throat and i wanted to know everything that your tongue could purge from your gut, but most especially the things that it couldn't; the things that were trapped, wrapped up in your bile and smothered there under an acidic blanket. i'm not sure any enzyme found in the human body could digest something so intense, but i would lend all of mine to you if you'd like them. in the meantime i'll water my trees for you until they grow out enough to entwine themselves with yours. i'm just not sure that all this salt is much good for them. and while i wait to find out, i'll let my arm blossom into a vine whose uppermost twigs i can braid into a blanket with your matching models. i know you like to keep your flowers hidden, but the gates to my garden will never be locked to you.