Love Letter In Summer

grow over me like velvet ferns over the hoods of abandoned cars, see
look how they are parked

stalled years ago and now swimming headlight-deep in a river of leaves

twine into me when my bones have cracked like their folded undercarriages

when my skin is all peeling paint,

turn my rust into rose petals

curl around my buckling knees, wrap them in moss and white lichens

crawl into my hitching lungs, plant seeds inside

tell me to wait until next spring

and when the oaks and the pines are standing above me, silent

listening to me cough the last of my motor oil onto the pavement

do not hang over my head

creep up under me and tickle my feet with your green fingers

kiss my belly and the crook of my elbow

whisper vines behind my ears

when I think I am all dead parts, nothing left but an empty backseat

and the decay of metal

when I beg you to abandon me

will you still see me through the forest’s eyes

will you still insist

that I can bloom again