yesterday’s flowers

yesterday’s flowers

resonate behind my eyes

like a flickering VHS

burning blue and red-

heat lines over the tape

barefoot and tangle-headed

from santa ana winds

a tumbleweed and a palm

transplanted like a fake sea

in barren empty riverbeds near the highway

bone white rocks bleached by the ancient sun

a mirage of water shimmering beyond

where the desert horizon melts

off the edge of the dead wasteland

that is a future earth

i run in slow motion back to the double-wide

wild poppy colored snapdragons

glistening and sharp in hyper-color

my magnetic heart drawing me

through the unlocked quiet corridor

of a daytime sleeping mother

nostalgic and exhausted like a living ghost

i reach for you like a dream

that i don’t want to wake from

my dirty little hands grasping

the cheap metal doorknob

it smells of stale smoke

stress pheromone armpits

and your slumber is peaceful

like doves are over your eyes

i squirm past the rotten

apple witch faced doll that sits

on your wicker tv stand

in fear that she might come to life

and touch me with one finger

like the legend of the man

who lived in the rocks

by the flash flood drain

behind our dusty trailer park

i stare in silence at your face

frozen in immortal beauty

doe eyes that are kind

free from usual worry in the waking

i need you to clean my wound-

a cherry stain appears

on the cream colored carpet

i reach for your arms

a gentle tap but i’m scared to wake you

my red chapped lips from desert wind

my red toe

the red snapdragon basket

outside your bedroom window

coming into view

like a mummified egyptian

perfectly painted

i can’t ask this much of you-

your lips form a small smile

but i see your body anchored

to the weight of sleep

i tip-toe softly

out of your room

and sit by the flower basket

until the blood dries

patting down the tangles

in hypnotic self-soothing

i can’t tell if maybe that moment

was a foreshadowing

of when i laid you in a casket a year later

painted like a doll

peaceful with sleeping dove eyes

but that would not wake this time

i stared for hours just to see

if maybe you would

to this day when i see

the blood bursting blooms

i think of us together

yet alone in canyon breeze

where they filmed the old star treks

in our hills

where you fashioned us

a rickety home

that is a burning memory

like yesterday’s flowers

that always surround me