In each green
web of dead stars,
I see myself.

A soul cast into space,
into a space
that was gulping at souls
like a thirsty, active dog.
Unquestioningly blissful,
just so happy to see you.

Through the cracks in the
pavement, I see
insect babies
crawling and
wanting nothing more
than to be loved.

My name is Mother
and I will care for
all the unwanted ones.

“Excuses, excuses,
mental illness.”

Whether your skin
tastes like
strawberries,
or raspberries,
or blueberries,
or flesh,
I will feel and know
if we are supposed to climb this mountain
together.

Why do you shake me
so hard?
I have to sleep
to get well and
live with people like you
and your friends.

I wish I could meet somebody brand new
and feel automatic magnetizing
happening from our eyes and our thighs.
And every time one breathes in,
the other breathes out
and we’ll keep each other alive
and raise bug babies and sunflowers
under an everlasting moon.