a cordial for the heart, this little
bell of blood, swell of secret in
scarlet. split-cherry, spit-smeared.
pulled-petals of memory, my body
a tonic for unfurling
flowers. red winter warning, that
bodily want, blood spills like berries
against the silent white
snow. collect me against this
cold, i want to grow, i want to be
gathered up in your hands and
harvested. it is now, as it
has been, cordially
yours
.
