June in Distress

I wish you could
see the echo of hearts
over bodies.

Two strangers kiss,
and their skin would grow
camellias, unpack a flock
of cardinals, dress in
mandala.

Your words burn through me,
my hair goes up
in smoke, flickers into ash.
My lungs shrink like blown dandelions.

How could you not see?

I wish you could
see shadows
in eyes that grieved,
and thorns in palms that
had to wave goodbye.

I wish you could see
your absence unspinning
my spine, like a yarn of cashmere,
one joint after another.

I wish you could see.