The garden I built for you.

I've made a little garden for you,
Its in my back and growing all over my body.
I can feel it on my skin and hear it when I breath.
It looks like purple when I close my eyes
and green when they're open.
I see thousands of little pearls all over
Growing from the ground
sprouting from the mother of the dirt,
Of all the tiny spaces of the earth
and nourished in the snall woumbs of flowers
like jasmine and lily
and a lotus on the water,
Hyacinth in my bed to the east
and Roses on the trails by my feet.
There's a great gate before me
Its locked in all the goodness when you hide there
But I have a key in my front pocket.
I see you crouched on the grasses there
about a length from me,
Flirting with the petals of a daisy
and letting it brush your gossamere gown,
so white and corruscating,
salacious and innocent.
It becomes you in my garden
and it makes me fondle the key.
But this garden is for you,
a place of yours
that I made for you.
A place to sit and admire the roses
Be safe of the world and stare at the clouds.
If I come in I'll disturb your mussings
and you might drop the flower to your lap
or rend it in startled jerks.
I couldn't bear to see it.
I couldn't sit beside you and twirl your hair
If by coming to sit I saw corpses of petals.
So I can wait, or you can expect me
and the clang of the gate will keep you relaxed.
So look for me in the entrance lady
and see me softly stepping forward
easing open the great iron gate
and dropping the key behind me.
For I have come to sit beside you
on the grasses near the stems of Hyssop
and rest a while in your lap
with my face in cerulean currents
and the garden that I built for you
growing around our bodies.