I am one poppy not many.
My blood blooms in your eyes.
When strong winds
rip you from Myself
I fly like lips to One Love.
You are the rain-
the auburn earth that receives
My delicate presence.
You are the raining universe
of My light.
Sometimes I cannot wait for two.
I shake myself free
of this magnetic dance
just to be a taste
for My own lips.
Yet even then
I am one poppy, not many.
