I wonder if she ..

I wonder if she notices
the cut on my wrists,
the graffiti of the night bed wrestles
on my back

I wonder
if she wonders
what the story is
behind the
the foreign name
emblazoned
my left thigh

If she hears
quite whispers of your name
escaping my lips poetry,
as I brush grass
and leaves
from the nest
of curls
that crowns her head,

I wonder if she will wonder
why I am tenacious
to weird rituals
that I could kill
and die for:
opening the doors,windows wide,
and even roofs without ceiling
setting out pool candles floating and a meal
on the right side of the first doorsteps
where you used to lounge
Fish, mainly
your favorite.
And leaving a chair waiting
in case it chooses
to bring you along,
when the ice comes
falling avalanche
on my yard
in this time

I wonder if she will
mute one day
the mournful toll
of the ancient
funeral bell that
knelled out it’s
rolling chime,
signaling the
death of my heart.

I wonder if one day
she will know
all of these.
could still she cling and walk miles
barefoot through roaring desert
with my tiny heart cradled in her arms
to reach the the oasis “medical center”
or will she dwindle away like others
into a thin air
dropping my heart deliberately
on the dunes for the sun to burn
because of the lack of my proper treat.

I wonder
with all these visions
should I give my heart a second chance
to love and thrive ,or
should I leave it in a sacred tomb deceased and enshrined?