I cut trees in the morning
When I wake up and make breakfast.
I think at the sound of the tree trunks
Breaking in two.
I cut trees after dinner
And before bedtime
So I can sleep better knowing
That the tree roots won’t grow
Out of me again.
I cut trees before I cut the vegetables
For a farewell party with friends
My father said it’s easy to let things fall behind you
Things that shake the ground
And terrorize the underground,
‘The beasts of the unknown might be around
I cut trees when I say goodbye
If I have to
I cut them just to make sure
My arms won’t bleed to death
So I’ll be fine.
I cut trees so I can leave and never come back
To say Hello to the Tree Mother
And Good Night to the Father Moon
Watching us sleep from above.
My family is a forest.
The trees that have been broken in two
Will not come back to life
And I know it.
I want to live within you
to grow roots in your flesh,
like a tree that needs blood
to cure its hunger for living.
White lilies slipped under my shirt
while my heart has been
growing in your garden,
before I stopped watering it.
I want to hold on to the enigma
that stitches the skies together:
yours and mine,
to the riddle that ditches the sorrow
weighing us down,
like a tulip bending its neck in
For you I’ll turn the sun bright blue
and mimic the language of sex with my fingers
I’ll talk to you naked
like god talks to a dying man.
I’ll walk with you
like the moon that glides
its light upon earth,
the stars aligned behind us
and all the life around us
If I was a child, would you raise me like a parent
Who came back home to kiss me good night?
Would you announce to the world that I’m yours,
Scattered like stars in the morning sky?
Would you go down on your knees
and show me the waters I have poured for you
From the empty glasses of fear?
Would you fill them with tears and tell me how much
I remind you of wine?
Would you open all the graves and show me immortality?
The signs of life lost in pale-blue bodies?
Would you call me from afar to pray with me for their sake,
For their hearts that engulfed them, telling them it was enough
To be human?
If I was your child,
Would you feed the dogs with the leftovers of my dreaming state?
Would you whisper to me and carry me above the ground,
In your arms
Like a mother would do,
Or a father,
Or a lover who wants nothing
but the reflection of love in himself?
I’m full of evening
I’m full of heart-shaped-moon
The crows lie on the ground
so I pray for them,
I lie with them in their sleep,
so I can hear their spirit flying away.
I am full of trees
The tree I like the most-the oak
has grown out of my chest like a flower.
Don’t cut it!
Don’t cut the trees but shake their leaves
so you can sleep on a curtain of colors
I’m full of crow
the man I love is full of me,
it’s full of nightfall
that followed my sorrow
into the day.