I put on a skirt with blossoming flowers on it --
The flowers will shoot the arrows of roots through my skin
To tie my impetuous arms with my languishing legs
And suck from my flesh the lingering thirst for your flesh.
The petals will stir when touched by the breeze of your eyes
And freeze in a standstill fearing the wasps of your thighs.
I wear in the spring the skirt with the flowers on it --
To find in the fall the seeds of the flowers in me.