Last Will

Dedicated to people who dye beautifully.

Last Will & Testament

-- For those who are too beautiful to remember after they’re gone.

 

I’ve never been one to appreciate

the dignity of a horseshoe dream,

or upset newborn daisy body bags

in the snow�"everything sputters

in the eye of expiry.

 

There is crescendo in moonlight

and footsteps on my ribs where

flames received me like a throbbing willow-

sure of nothing more than its evacuated colors.

 

I wish I could tell Autumn to revert itself and put

His holy eyelashes back, so I could write love-letters

to my bicycle tires and thank them for saving

me from so much dust.

 

You can have my sun. I will leave it

on the nightstand beside your lungs

and pray it doesn’t keep you awake

for too long.

 

The daffodils on the ledge

are timid of rain�"guard their chlorophyll

heartbeats with the pads of your fingers

and let them rest like cocoons.

 

Read a book to the candle every night

and trace your veins like power lines-

the way you used to search my eyes for blood.

 

Hemingway is your last love now; I’ll absolve you

for that. Read him only on snowcapped mountains

with clovers and briefcases for when he strangles

your breath into cigarette butts.

 

God was never meant to grow wings,

but He bred acres out of thorns and

will pardon your tears tonight�" as

the last ounces of sugar dissolve on your tongue.

 

All that lingers now is the saw dusted

garlands and woodworked casket of your clotheslines.

 

I am in repair�"you are at home,

leading vigils and spreading the Red Sea

open with a rose’s palm; probing for your

final bit of sunshine.