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Click hereMy love, please
plant your garden without
empty seed packet markers on sticks,
make me guess what is to grow.
Feed me tastes,
weave me a bouquet,
tease me with catnip,
but do not say it is for me.
It may anger the garden
to find you have so easily
passed possession
You may find a revolution
underground
uproot
uprise,
as they feed on me
pin down toes,
vine up ankle
bound and strangled.
She may refuse to produce.
Do you love me?
Fill your hand with radish and marigold,
blow seed to land where they will
bite and bitter and dirt
miraculously evolve into
potatoes underground
without a "for you"
ever
to dirty hands.
pose for shadows in nearby yard.
read carefully the ingredients of seeds.
watch for grubs in mud puddles backstroking
don jelly rubber knee high boots
pleading for a splash and dunk.
your poem makes me drink rain
head tipped the wrong way for traditional prayer.
out the window
our prayers scatter like dandelion seeds