maybe i could birth a breath from inside you. maybe i could be the surrogate that once carried you, though you now carry yourself.
and i had thoughts of lupine fields painting on a real life canvas’ in purple watercolor mixed by tiny brushes with your liquid and soft, deep muscle.
i had thought of this lupine field with the sun in the east and saw you fall to your knees before me. i had thought of unearthing fistfuls of lupines just to tame you, but couldn’t bother removing the stain their wet petals would leave on the palm of my brain.
now i’m just fixated on flowers and their soft association with watercolors and the way you would create the perfect consistency if you were a color palate.
and i thought again about lupine fields, this time falling to my knees before you and i thought about pulling up handfuls of lupines to press onto the pit of your belly, smudge their violet color into the silk of your blouse as i knell before you.
and i would think, in this thought, i would think, in this thought, i would think that the only thing between you and me would be your silk blouse and that handful of lupines.