Juxtaposition

I keep having nightmares about us

that I become a vase

with a shiny and blushful face

cheeks as plump as plums

red as strawberries

but as still and static as I am

my heart still beats like a drum

because with firm, foundation-like hands

you grasp my bottom and

hold me as my column

but you can speak and your words

make my tummy come alive with churning

but also a sort of yearning.

Then somehow you wobble and rock

and I fall over you.

I shatter

and with one eye watch pieces scatter

Then I die as a leaf would as it had fallen from a tree

on a sullen, autumn evening.

I die as a plant who was crushed by wild, winter winds

sadly, naturally, but gratefully

because it was good to be held by you for a minute

than to never experience the whirl of romance.

Then in the middle of the night I wake

with sweat drizzled on my face

my heart shuddering with fear.

My fall heavy on my tongue,

and my body flinching for when I should break.