Worm Holes

You are beneath my feet now.
In the cement and sand,
in the trudged up roots
and snapped twigs.

I hope you are having
the time of your life.

My right side is a valley
my left
a waste
I am barren here

in the hollow

between rib and hip

and I am graceless compared to that 

garden in your chest

but at least I have this
of which you cannot hold
of which you cannot brush away
with the flutter of your eyelashes

at least I have this one side
where the energy ripples

where the yolk flows

and puddles

between rib and hip

I want to be knee deep in you.