Then I eat them—
the berries— fierce messengers
of heart harbored in this hollow.

Robins fatten on linked seeds—
plump flesh of the soil, heaped,
damp maidenhair turning
black eucalyptus peeling
creamy veins of secret rivers.

Berries scream red through winter—
piercing pleasure in curls of bark,
night lengthening next to my ripening.

Ripen, ripen until you fall free.
Be buried. Join me.
At dawn, the body burns.