Thursday, November 12, 2009
Ode To My Dear Cochineal Bug
How is that when I grind your dried bodies up and steep them in my distilled water, three times over, you can make my heart sing as you do?
How is that when you're added to a pot of hot simmering water, you can make my legs go weak?
I could bleed your love and die a hundred deaths just to have you near me.
Oh fuchsia, dance with me. Let's tango together.
And then rest with me in the sun. And we'll let our dreadlocks intertwine.
Just come with me, my spinning wheel is right in here.
How do I love thee?
I cannot count the ways.
Dear Cochineal Bug, will you be mine?