enough already, please

this shallow way home
red brick gravestone
the dips and whorls in
the valley of ur stomach
where i buried my head
and u stroked my soft hair
and said lets stop now
in the mountain of ur body
i find my body
i find myself in the steam of coffee
and ground up
sky down, i find a rugged path
brisk in edgeways and fingertips
far in empty casings and orchids
didnt u watch the harvest this year?
didnt u see it all barren as a dead thing could be?
i did, i did. trying to write my name
in the misty windows and the greys
of curtains and collarbones
where the words don't fall the right ways.
i dont care about looking sideways
when i cross the road
i care about you on the other side
where a body is that i know how to touch.
winter ate us up in the harvest
when my parents swallowed each other whole
and my skin wrapped itself
around the both of us
the empty corn ears built a nest
and we left the red brick
give me ur heartache i said
and we can plant it here for everyone to see