Dust to Dust

Sep 22

i want to cut
from my abdomen to my chin
and fill a long furrow
of the earth with blood.
i’ll ask her to wait
before mending me
taste all my salt and metal

if i began to convulse,
let the zinnias disperse
and inundate me.
if i die, the petals and heavy rain
will press me into her bosom.
if i live, speak nothing of this;
silence was my wish all along.