Always opening and closing,
always mouth searching.

Babies have this reflex called
rooting, do you know?
If you stroke their cheek,
they turn towards your hand,
expecting to be fed.
It’s meant to disappear at
around four months.
I think – I think I never lost 
that. When someone shows me
even the tiniest bit of kindness
my entire soul still twists 
towards them. A sunflower
searching for the sun. A
hatchling keening for its mother.
I keep falling (in love) and falling (in love)
and falling (in love). Knees raking the
ground. Standing with blood pooling
around my feet. Still leaping with
outstretched arms. See,
last week this boy smiled at me and
I just thought no, no,
      don’t do that, don’t,
             I’m weak and broken and wanting
                       and I will tie myself around you like a vine.
          I will push my body around until it
                 fits yours. I will write your name on my veins.
                        I will open and open and  
    crack right
                                        down the middle.