I tie my curtains

I grew up
hating the idea
of growing up.
So I turned my feet into dandelions
and planted them at the base
of a grandmother oak
behind
my grandmothers home.
Beneath the soil
were the bones
of the birds
I had accidentally set free.
I experienced
worlds
of experience.
before experience was necessarily even necessary.
That child mind,
that short-lived
half second

when I was a wild flower -
I was a flower
that was late to tea
with someone
who could turn me rose.

I became behaved.

I was behaved.

   be-halfed.

  and by the way
 on behalf of my other life
    that other half-
       
I remember I was born to matter.

All of this occurred to me
before I became a full grown weed
while you recited casual poems
before you arrived with casual knives.
Yes, you came to admire the flower
I bore
before my wishes could scatter
You remembered I was just matter.
you held your breath
for as long as you could
Until you turned blue,
Until you became the kid in you
Until you became the cloud in you.
You
disappeared in the skyline.
and I remembered
we were born to scatter.

And here I am,
tying my curtains
opening a window
    wishing
a giant bird
would take me
and use me to build a nest.
A nice Dandelion nest.