Calamondin

By spring you are ripe and delicately 
Preaching
Hi, hello, goodbye
Like a figure drawing in green lines
I leave and see fate 

From above, I'm ashamed, you come out to play 
Then, I frown, bow down, but now, in chains 
I can't fix it, my pulse in ribbons 

Ridiculed, a fever pitch, a new harvest
The taste of death lingering 
That kind of glory like a bright bulb
Outgrowing my shoes, outgrowing you

I can never fit all the things I want to say on the page 
Inundated with intrusive thoughts
Maybe it's all in my head, this lucid lexicon I saved

Brave roots at nightfall coming alive in dreams
People, they make me anxious
Like a sculpture in a trinket box

I am a bad cough in the morning
An amorous thistle like a songbird in a cage 
Bereaved by the time we lost
Red-letter days, tortured in fantasies
So close but yet so distant.