Desert Love

Desert Love

 

Love, I will give you my happiness.

I will slip it into your morning coffee, and in the evening I will trade it for your scotch.

In the hospital cool, I’ll fill your IV bag full with my joy, and outside, I will douse you in great splashes.

 

I will make a thunderstorm on the mesa above and it will rain for days.

Your dam below -

old - cracked - hastily - patched -

will burst

And its deluge will sweep away the nettles behind your eyes, so when I kiss you full on the mouth in the afternoon’s heat, I will taste my joy in your sweat.

 

Love, I will give it all to you.

When I run out, send me scavenging in the brush.

I will return with:

            arms full of firewood -

            dusky pebbles in my shoes -

            sage between my fingers -

            snakeskin between my teeth.

 

Send me to the river.

I will return with buckets sloshing water.

 

I’ll place these things on a nighttime fire

And sear my skin as I lean to stir.

 

In the morning, I will be ashes. But drink my last happiness in the cool of a slow rising dawn -

and taste my sweat in your joy.