I fell into a crush
the moment he called me honey
my heart of stone
crumbled as I stood rooted
a blush on my face
my thoughts sailed on a dream

last night he was in my dream
his fingers crushed
flower petals into powder for my face
he kissed me, a mouth made of honey
I turned the color of beet root
and he turned to stone

I woke and passed the day silent stone
wandering in and out of a day dream
I don't want to be rooted
to a man who is only a crush
though knowing him would be sweeter than honey
the truth I need to face

I have always hidden my true face
held a countanence of solid stone
beneath, I wonder at the taste of honey
wanting to wake from the dream
survive each crush
to find one worth putting down my root

a poor gardener, I often up-root
the strain shows on my face
my heart gets crushed
into gravel walkways of stone
I won't give up my dream
someday I will taste honey

I watch bees scramble to make honey
into flowers they root
their colors a dream
I long to paint my face
all my walls of stone
crumble, thinking of petals crushed

dream of hands anointing them to my face
a river of honey flows from tumbled stone
can tender roots grow from a crush?

10/28/1998

Posted on 05/10/2003
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