What Eventually Blushes Green

Because she knows
It will be painful
In the end,

Tendon slap bone slap skin
Marry the salt taste
Above the brow
And someplace down below
Where –
When you think on it
Feels like everything else

In her life,
The sweat tastes like sweat
And something green
Brushed over naked miles
Where –
If she had words
She may say love.

Light carries dark carries flame
Flame a fresh jade onion
Or something just as crisp,
Where –
If you could see her
She may feel like saline
Smell like tendon slap bone
And forever sound like
What eventually blushes green.