Release

Let’s make fennel smoothies with grapefruit.

—icicles spraying into my eyes from the perfection of your drink—

I am still not blinded from the potency of your R O M A N C E—

So new as to unexpectedly disrupt my own.

There’s that pain of sluicing my heart through too small a grip,

choking on immaturity— mine and his— unable to overcome the salted-countryside-lust :

the smell of the humble-bees buzzing toward the flowers

the cows steaming in the honey-mist of spring

the bell peppers dripping in the morning-webs of dew.

We make our drinks and you slurp yours too.

Together you’ll sow seeds in the dirt

to convince the Earth that it is healing

my soul;

but you’ve left a disease to spiral through the nostrils of the silly lamb that frolics in the newfound warmth of life that will one day become

the peaceful scent of hay running through the grass.