Dirt To Dirt

If I am dirt –  
I want to grow naked ladies:
sweet perfume you could drown in 
pink but not too pink,
resplendent in hostile conditions.

But I do not feel like dirt, dust, earth,
a lump of clay to be transformed.
I am not comforted by my smallness
slow decay of bones –
A humble spec on a spec 
in an endless sea of galaxies.

I want time to work backwards
Held in arms that want nothing 
but to be my mattress 
my warmth 
my breeze
in a place without time, rot, or dirt.

I hope I have impacted you 
like water on a hot day
a breeze when you needed reviving
a warm meal 
Rise from your satiation
Carelessly forget, I was your mattress, your warmth.

Rage at the thought of my spoil
Run fearless across mountains to catch my glimpse
Howl in the streets and tear your clothes
Scream: “my mother – 
my mother was anything but dirt!”

I do not want to be dirt
but a small world within
Big and infinite 
A starry sky 
dreaming in fertile landscapes.