blueberry patch

Waking in a dream
My hands lie in the
Chill of blueberry leaves
Hillside in brief dusk
Staring at a sky that once
Held me close

Earth-stained
I'm marked in silence
Heartbeats between my ears
Native tracker
Listening to the stampede
Of oncoming horses

Sweet smell of blue
Is sickening
If I didn't know what it was
I'd smell the fruits of fall
Or tender love against my skin
I know what it is

Trampling hooves
Ever closer
I fell in love
Windswept hyperbole
Steamed nostrils
Of equine exhaustion

Raping myself
With words, over and over
Plunged into used eye sockets
Red and green
Blur to an ugly yellow
I didn't heed

Here I am
Watching the sky and sea
Foreign landscapes
Touch each other
I collect the rain
Not the sun

I can't look away
Each glance
A thrusting stab into
Newly formed muscle
Decapitating every thought

All the backwards things
--The absolutes
--Erased by maybe
The flickering light
That was never extinguished

I've never felt this love before
I love this love
I love him
But I have to let it go
Because he doesn't love me

Rising from the patch
Crawling to the path
To my feet
Ice cold wind thumps my shoulders
Blueberries on my fingers
Red streaks on my swollen gullible face

I want to look back
I want to look back
I want to look back
.
.
.