Your Fruit Rooted In Blues (The White Stripes)

Wooo!
Even strawberries get it. I want you to get with it…
… they just happen to know exactly what to do,
so why don't you?
..................................Jack White - Instict Blues
..................................The White Stripes


We both know, you and I
will walk together again,
our touch, a slippery glide
along that path outside in,
heart skin singe and friction electric
take us down,
coming to rest breathless
on the ground.
Your wet box, framed
in the finest wood,
you put out each spring
to capture my beams of sunlight,
this timber tender,
the precision of polish and shine,
grain immaculate,
such is the risen road we follow.

With just a moist kiss of rain,
the berries grow,
your throbbing fruit,
a juice stain of desire.
Slash of human scar,
a blood let day of awakening
soon an invite for crawling things
to join in the feast.
Fiber of time has settled fiercely
on the root of your bones,
we rain and rain, as the insects chew
beneath the surface,
penetration during a flood
of mirrored reflection,
claim of fractured stem,
retreat of vine, hairy fingers
of memory grasp you.

Your words are planted in my mouth,
a dirty little jug of soil,
saliva saturated sun shines through
enough to grow teeth,
a bite of syllable distraction,
the twisting of tongue
into a grammatical recoil
of vernacular restitution.
So when you go, you go,
been here before. You squeeze
on the two headed worm
just to watch it pull back,
both ends simply compress
and meet in the middle.
This road to nowhere
shall never get us home.