You Nailed Me Poem by Mark Heathcote

You nailed me
To the garden fence with a kiss,
Translucent-blood then wet my lids
Like sunlight after a heavy shower.
Apple-fresh the goblet-cup opened
It's olive pores of the greenwood.

I held you, too tightly at first limb for limb.
Then o'er oil and water mixed, before parting?
'Virginity is a yellow bruise that grapples
Like a naked swimmer' inherently drowning
Expounding: for some forbidden fruit.

It's now then you gaze at me as though
Your Eden had already overgrown
Chopping backwards at some underpass
Your eyes droop like summer scorched nettles
That reveals me as an unremitting, wilderness.

Even now, the air!
Still, pollinates that long-off aspersed-seed.
Even now—when your garden fence
No-longer beckons me to that leap over
The nature of the slug,
Is still here abundant ready to curl, cling.

Yes, it was right then I too did not live up to you
For you were a flower of the golden meadow
And I, I was a flower of the woodland vine.
You were a primrose and I am a jungle climbing fig
In memories bound up of your distant sunlight.