Day 18

There are orchids blooming
in your ears
If I could be the voice of reason
in your thoughts
The sounds of femininity
in your ear drums
The whisper of creation
in your spirit
I would feel a lot less
like a woman with unfinished business

Weeping willows disguise the rustling
of their long and soft work
in your snoring

Laying still you move like you are
waiting for something to send you
looking for something;
Laying motionless you
move like it isn't me.

There is baby's breath tangling istelf
in the width of you dead, sleeping eyes

And underneath my ear I can feel
an Adam's apple fall
and perish in the earth
to bloom a budding tree

But your voice does it no justice
and barely follows through
to let me climb
the branches leading to your mind.

I have a lot more faith in the things you do not say

It's all here,
The fruitfulness of Eden
is ressurecting in you
And you wake,
only to tell me
that you don't believe in reincarnation