Let’s get married,
 
you said, watering nothing.
 
 
I’m not going anywhere,
 
you said, drowning on the couch.
 
 
I still love, I still love—
 
you said from the porch
 
 
waiting for him to eat the apple
 
of another. Blank spaces in your
 
 
gut, everything cut up. Who is being
 
gardened? Weird
 
 
how you thought
 
in clean-handed times
 
 
you came up from the ground
 
perfect human beings.