the poem i swallowed at your doorstep

I swallowed a poem

while I lingered

at your doorstep

for the last time.

I wanted to say

make a home of me;

throw my pebble heart

into the river-sky of your heart.

I wanted to say

walk all over me;

trample on my body made of moss;

carry my dirt under your soles.

I wanted to say

hack my skull open;

slip my howling theories

into the lulls of your speech.

I wanted to say

if I were the cut,

if I were waves,

if I were your bed,

please make me.