A Lesson on Agriculture

You stood there naked as Adam
Robust as Devil’s Ivy.
I was uprooted,
needing to taste the pungent slime gathering
like morning dew in the base of your stamen
waiting to spill unto my sepal.
My throat played along the trunk of a furtive sapling;
I feel the slickness of your filament-
Svelte and gummy around my pistil
wishing to feel every granule of your earth.
Roll in your dirt with open hands and extended tongue
Benison given, you are fertile soils
You; as yielding as the plum blossom-pink flushing your neck
when my lips suckle gingerly along your nape
My hands the ants, running across your leaves
A rush of chlorophyll, green pigments that expand
Hearty vines wrap us as a pod
To brave the pain of germinating
The smell of your pollen whets my hunger
I want to taste the milky burst of your spring
and feel the meaty fruit that lies beneath
Until we produce a gelid sap
And our pores drip amber, arrogantly.
But my courage has remained a seed
To bloom in idle, no will to reap.
I seek growth in this summer’s heat
Branches outstretched I make a nest
In your tree, a gift from Gaia, intoxicating
Pluck away at your bark, brush away the debris
Now I can see where you flower,
a garden for the God’s to feast