Created to tend the garden, but some
Of us were told to leave for good. Body:
Patch of earth watered by blood, spit
And not much else. We hide in bushes.
Can't touch clean flowers. Bruises, blue and purple
Orchids spread across our skin. Said I’d never miss
A place I couldn’t have. Left but didn’t get far.
Had no boat. Looked for safety in belly of whales
And men lost at sea. Now my fingers trace
Jaw of a forgotten horse (another name for Adam).
Wish I could forget those old bones, but
Nothing is more dangerous than a boy told
To be a man when he needed flowers, overflowing.