Garden

I have settled in you

Like soot in smokers' lungs.

We sleep in waves,

Shifting, pulling the blankets like teeth.

The alarm sounds.

My cigarette's half-ashed

On the back porch.

Lilies cough second-hand.

I'm a disease, an eyesore.

The alarm sounds.

A footstool slip up

Leaves my elbow blooming.

Dark burgundy rose petals

Root me to checkered tile.

I don't impress you.

My flower pales at the feel of yours,

Succulents patching up my arms.

Ivy grows under my skin.

Old willow worries;

She's seen decades

And can't close her eyes.

We carved letters in her once.

Those kids knifed obscenities across it.

My mouth spits ivy,

Thick and roped like intestines.

Dead flowers follow.

Tinnitus shakes my head,

Empty and dulling.