Love at 80 mph draft 2

The groves on the pavement on the side of I-90 whisper my name

Just accelerate around the tight turn of an on-ramp

Stepping on gas and leaning into the pull of your own body

Want to go forward, want to turn, desires pushing you, pulling you

What is gravity but all the built-up sexual tension of the universe?

Faster, against the odds

More, against all forces moving towards entropy

My orgasm is an act of defiance against the eventual heat death of the universe

When I drive into the sunset the world stops turning, just for me. 

Springtime series 8

And when the birds return 

I am filled with bone-melting relief

Each morning they sing and I wake just to hear them

Each feather from their soft, round bodies is a celebration

The blues and greens and reds and jet blacks

That soothe the loud drum of my severe winter heartbeat 

Into the melody of soft green shoots, 

Hesitantly poking their shy leaves into the sunlight

I try not to fall in love with each stranger I meet

But when the sap is rushing to my leaves

And each of their eyes holds the secrets to the universe

Not loving is asking my life blood to halt in its tracks

Cease rushing up the cambium of my flushing skin

To cease the unfurling of my feral green leaves

To cease the blooming of my deafening yellow flowers

My body is the springtime and 

Thawing is the most beautiful and terrifying thing I have felt 

This year