you've been a stray
a long time—
why not keep still,
trust the gravity
in laughter,
curl up
on my scale
and see what you weigh?
You've made oceans
of byways; why not
spend the night?
It is not true
that you don't know
what you want;
what you want
is to know
what it is you require,
to ripen into love
with this thought,
or that one—doesn't matter;
what you need
is to grow
a heart pain can poison
before you can fertilize
that heart's
desire.
