GreyBean

If you stay up late tonight
I will lay next to you
and cradle the stars
inside your head. 
But I can’t promise that
my heart won’t bleed and die. 

Your eyes are like broken cloudy nights,

She sits on a white-spotted toadstool 
in the middle of a basil-green forest,
waiting for someone 
she does not know
to come. 

She opens letters while she waits,
peeling off the red wax seals

I sit back and watch
the green paint dry
around my hands,
cracked and coated. 

I hold a handful of brown
soil 
in my palms,
a green sprout peeking out. 

I wait for the tree I planted
years ago

I swim in the midst of strawberry seas,
bubble waves washing over my 
golden head,
my broken mind. 

I sing in streets of lilies,
begging you to come outside
of your glass palace that you sit in all day—

When the flowers fall with every burst of wind,
I imagine they swim their way back up
to their position among
the leaves and oranges. 
Shadows of broken clouds 
pass overhead,
the petals of orange blossoms