I'd Heal You Up

I want to cover you in sumac,
piece by piece,
pressing it softly into you,
and holding it there
while your eyes close
and you let it heal you.

I picture you driving your truck
down every line
of the corn fields,
empty now, for winter comes.
I see you gazing left to right
at the sunset.
you drive and drive,
you gaze and gaze,
you inhale and exhale,
smoke rises,
your eyelashes are shadows
against the sky.

I picture the velvet
melting into you,
as slowly your body
is enveloped bit by bit.

I watch flakes land on your long lashes,
compare the pace of your blinking
to the rhythm of the snow.
It falls softly all over the ground.

I cover your lips last, but they
are already red like the sumac,
they are spread long over
your snow white teeth.
Only your eyes are left
and they glimmer in the sun.

This second skin of sumac
will heal you up, will make you soft again.
It looks red, but it is also brown
because of all the dirt within it,
after seasons and different winds.
You have dirt to shed, too.

I hold the sumac between my fingers,
breathe in its texture, feel its softness.
Your eyes are a fortress sparkling,
and when you drive across the field,
I see you scanning the shapes against the sky,
while you choose between your paths.

I put the sumac pieces all over your skin,
but you have to want to heal
for the sumac to make you soft again,
you have to want to be whole
and it might hurt,
and take some time.

If we made it to summer,
I’d wrap sumac leaves all around you,
make you emerald green.
If we made it to fall,
I’d wrap neon red all over your shoulders
and your strong arms,
but we have only the velvet pieces of the flower now,
and you have to breathe as I press it against you,
as I place it piece by piece,
in hopes to heal you.

The world is white now from the snow,
the sumac is red like your lips,
or the blood beating through our hearts
(were it out in the oxygen of the world,
but it flows blue inside us still).
The snow will melt and with it us too,
revealing only dirt left on the ground.

I’d like to heal you up,
let the softness of the sumac
insulate you from the pain
that is inevitable to feel
to make you whole again.