Like You're Talking to Me

Write like you’re talking to me

You said

Like we are in bed

The sheets our shield

The pillows rocks that block the waves

Anything could be outside

Sun, Stars, Moon, Ash, Rainbows

It doesn’t matter

We don’t need to say anything about love

We’d rather turn our hands into animals

Talk in backward letters

Like children in their rain boots

Laughing up to our ankles

Or we stay in silence

And listen to the sigh

Of clouds scraping paint off the sky

You sing me songs I’ve never heard

You’re black, wet soil

You can grow anything

You’re a base element

A medicine wheel

A primary color

You’re a long trumpet note

Your sadness carries a heavy stone

Your happiness carries a sequined purse

I'm not afraid

Of dying

We’ll be in bed again

Safe beneath the dirt covers and rock pillows

Because you can grow anything

We will come back

Flowers in the headstones shadow