honeydew, hold me—
haggle over my seeds
with your
own— flower
over hovering
above hinging
upon you—
I like you in
slices I like you
upholstered in a
hell on Hollywood
Boulevard hatted
so lowly and
heavily
no one knows
who you
could be
honeydew—I like you
never in Manhattan
hot & heaving
sweating on
my forehead in my
hair welled in
neck’s hollow—
when do
you hurt—
in these hallucinations
of mine you are always
bleeding
and always smear it on me—
it happens
at the thresh-
hold—
I would like to be held
you would too
in this sunlight
I handcraft and embroider
what I am trying
to say to you. you do
very well.
2025