Bury me

in that red-rocks desert,

Where the lilies don’t grow

And the mountains cast a shadow

On the few that dare to try.

Take a piece of me, when you go:

Like the winds do to the blooming dandelions;

Like the sun does to the drying soil;

Like the years did to the town you grew up in.

Because you move with the seasons

And I’ve put down my roots

(to be something bigger than the both of us.)

Carry me across that finicky threshold

of Winter and Spring

Where the ice has thawed,

(Not Enough to send the floods,

Just Enough to wet

the bottom of your boot-cut jeans)

Because

You live in your head

and I live in the meadows

And you never did touch me

unless it was so I could be handled.

We’re twin fates, fast on a collision course

(and our landing site grows desert rose)

We kiss like death,

Like the meeting of the months,

Like the first rainfall 

In that dry, red-rocks desert

Where I saw you

& begged you

to lay me to rest.