I want to eat your sparrow, come here. I want to lick your sparrow claws come here. I want to cut your sorrows out you’re hollowed out. Come here. I want to suck your fingers off. Come here. I want to give you your history back. Your fingers back. I want to tell you yes. Come back. I want to show you my pressure, my heavy, my opened and clothes, my under and o’s. Come here. I want to finger your bones back. I want to sew your bones back I want to re-blood your history. I want to undo you like a mystery novel. Is this the kitchen? The table-saw? Is this your memory? Your tree-dream? You’re declawed. I want to give you your teeth back. Your teeth marks. I want to spit back your teeth-pull. I want to unhinge your heart-jaws. Come here. I want to sit you down on the bed and give you back my years. Here. I breathed your name into the leaves. Here. I breathed you back into the trees. Here. This is your tree-dream this is your tree-house, this is a bedroom, this is a silver broom this is a shallow dream. This is my tree-dirt, my bee shirt. This is my honey-stalk and these are your climbing shoes. Harmonica me to sleep again. Put your sparrow on my back skin. -Kallie Falandays, "I Want To Tell You Yes"
