Stars Kiss The Night

poppies bloomed in the meadow
& my own bud hid, scowling

my stem scribbling

thinking the more I wrote

the closer I’d be to you

trying to be the better parts

so you’d come

& kiss me like the stars kiss the night

like snow sighing on a hill

masquerading as warmth

I wanted you, all of it

so much that there’d be

nothing left of me

so travelers would come & say

 “here she laid, but she became sated.”

and as wind blows autumn leaves

I would scatter myself

over the fields of you.