If 100 words is all it takes to write me back to you, I say, bring on the fractures, new fissures, the tiny breaks in the heart, all the on and off in the mathematics of we two--wee bits of light catching the fold. I say, say it simple, keep it close to chest. One switch puts it all in play--this television drama splicing us together or apart. I say, this spring season watch all the episodes with me. Dance across the screen. Let me knead you to your final conclusion. Let's laugh, a fractal imagining, and love. You show me no mercy, have me wearing Pablos' cape, going about the sorrow-sucked streets singing to myself, searching locked faces for calla lilies like a dog with an egg in her mouth. You want roses? Nights in love with the bloom in your hand? Give me tough seeds, plants that grow only in deserts, trees that sprout through fire. I want you, your expressed desire, olive oil from your sultry secrets, salty taste of your memories, what doesn't live tomorrow but in the eternal today of your sudden loving smile. You made me me. You! Show me no mercy! THAT BOOTY POPPIN THO
