poodles in the clouds
clouds made of poodles
that caterpillar who tickled my thigh
and made a cocoon on your skirt
was that orange monarch
who got caught in the windshield wipers
and mended itself on my palm
to flutter back up into the cypress tree
i held my breath, fetal, on the cove
made of true crystal
thumbing a cactus
after i left you and
your belly of milk
your kiwi vines
your ink blots
for a pile of preciousness
pockets full 
of chipped jade
wild fennel
dried prickly pear
airbrushed puka shells
gessoed mushrooms
a moldy house
a stress rash
a sports bra
Man, I swear, I'd give the whole thing up for you.