Weeping willow

My life's a paper bag full of groceries
that the sharp edges of a cartoon of milk cut through
and let
tomatoes, eggs, love and sex spill onto the street
like the glass pellets we used to play with
when we were kids

I always wanted my smile to stretch as wide
as a Robin Hood bow,
(am I the beggar, am I a viscountess?)

there are red curly roses on my hands,
my eyelids are ripped skies
through which dreams and stars are falling

I wear a blue eye against the evil eye
on my wrist
that seems to have stopped its magic -
black spreads into my body like
water sips into clothing

my legs are empty

I need you.

I bloom like a flower around you -

you are the lost breeze of wind
that swirls my curls,
a cup of coffee in the mornings and a bed of
love in the evenings

you are what makes my lips soft
and my ribs grow towards the blue like trees

I love you more than an artist loves his work
or the ocean loves the shore

I always wanted my smile to stretch as wide
as a Robin Hood bow
(where are you?)

but it remains only a broken branch
of a weeping willow.