la ĝardenisto, parto kvin

I haven’t seen the stars in a while now
buried among the shipwrecks in my heart
which make no sense- I’ve never been to the sea
for poison ivy does not fare well in rough seawater

fragments of my old self are staring back at me
the floor is petaled in scraps of old leaves
it’s molting season, brought on by the sudden heat
today, water hasn’t yet touched my feet

secrets know I’ve yearned to touch the night sky
caress it like an old friend long since shriveled up and died
but with summer arrives insects looking for limbs to gnaw off
and winter’s seduction is bitter and dry

and the gardener, oh! how he crookedly smiles
when brushing his gloved hands across my vines and leaves
the swelling marks left by these pruning scars
will serve as the teat for today’s guests’ tea

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