by Ginger Jones
Cactus Flower
The infinite way you kiss me
on the side of the road
or when you awake next to me,
covered in blood from the day before
and how you hold me in between your
pointer and your thumb
dripping, laid against a rock,
in a cul de sac of granite
like a cactus flower
picked off the edge
of something sharp
and protected.
Dagger Wounds
Lying awake on my side
with a dagger lanced
between my shoulders
where wings should be,
spilling a black pool
like some kind of abyss,
levitating myself over the darkness
as the earth crumbles
beneath my feet like never before.
I will either sink or swim,
but I have spent a lifetime loving,
only living for the moments in between
suffering and solitude,
with open arms,
till some cowardice or fear dunks my head
underwater once more.
Wondering how many times
does a heart have to break
before it becomes unbreakable,
till it becomes lovable.
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Ginger Jones is a poet from California.