It’s Hard to Parse a Love Poem When You Know It’s Not for You

Dark cliffs sink through deep sleep.
This means we are not in love.

Brief clouds dream of days of rain.
This says clocks are hours in gloves.

Brown earth holds heat on its skin.
This wants you to hug your chest.

Grip the edge of each blade’s stem.
This hints calm would suit you best.

My thoughts slow in thick, gold sun
That licks the tips of its nails

To get earth’s blood off of them.
This asks how our love must fail.

Plows churn all names down through dirt.
This says love poems aren’t their words.