Blue Poem No. 1

I want to be covered in flowers

made of rondelle and angora

and encrusted in muddy hemlines

and dusty polyester cuffs

I want scars on my face

that read like red-figure pottery

portraits of the life leaving Antaeus

and lip gloss clear enough

to capture a Narcissus

I want an hourglass figure

made of rebarred concrete

and calloused hands of silk

coated in gemstones and acrylic

I want US Size 13,

5-inch, red-bottom

heart-shaped heels

colored black as my bloodline

and the black cat knuckle-dusters

to match

I want her to dap me up

like we'd been gang

since grade school

I want him to hold me

like he knows

he's never going to see me again

I want to button your coat up for you

and brush the hair from your face

and wipe the biting tears from your eyes

I want to feel

the weight of you

pinning me down

and the rumble of your snore

at 6 in the morning

I want to be so small

and so soft

and so sweet

you'd never know

how full of

sheetrock

and piss

and vinegar I am

I want all of it

the whole thing

I want to be

and feel

and know every feeling

every moment

every thing

and then nothing at all