letters to francis, in hopes that he'll reply

I

Tonight my room is sinking,

And I watch the rain kiss the cacti on my window pane

And trickle down to the brown of its roots

Giving hope to the dying plant that, despite my negligence,

Its flowers could maybe bloom again?

II

It’s been 1,260 hours since my heart shrank,

And all the fluid that spilled out when you squeezed it

Spells out your name on my sheets. And I hear it

Breaking again tonight.

Can you hear it too?

III

I kicked my sheets off onto the floor last night, and slept

With the cold summer frost creeping up at my limbs

Come back to my chest where you can lay, or sleep,

Or break my heart in three— two for you

One for me.

IV

If my pollen could reach you

through this relentless rain, I’m referring to my tears,

to breed them with the dried blood on your knuckles

that set deep in my wall last Tuesday,

Then you could stay forever?