Garden
I have settled in you
Like soot in smokers' lungs.
We sleep in waves,
Shifting, pulling the blankets like teeth.
The alarm sounds.
My cigarette's half-ashed
On the back porch.
Lilies cough second-hand.
I'm a disease, an eyesore.
The alarm sounds.
A footstool slip up
Leaves my elbow blooming.
Dark burgundy rose petals
Root me to checkered tile.
I don't impress you.
My flower pales at the feel of yours,
Succulents patching up my arms.
Ivy grows under my skin.
Old willow worries;
She's seen decades
And can't close her eyes.
We carved letters in her once.
Those kids knifed obscenities across it.
My mouth spits ivy,
Thick and roped like intestines.
Dead flowers follow.
Tinnitus shakes my head,
Empty and dulling.