if my lungs were filled
with sand and ashes
  i would still choke out
sonnets and haikus
and tell you how much i think of you

  if there were a garden in my ribs
i would water it and care for the life within
in hopes that you would someday come in
  and brush your fingers over
the jasmine and roses and ivy and bluebells
that adorn the walls of my heart

  if my eyes were diamond crystals
opalescent shades of angel feathers
  i would tear them out and
curl fingers of silver around them
and string them around your neck
  so that they could rattle alongside
your beating pulse forever

  if my teeth were to grow too sharp
nothing but fangs that tear and snap
full of venom, leaking from my lips
  i would sew my mouth shut
and sit evermore in silence next to you
so you could never get hurt

   and if my tongue were
dead in my mouth
  i would breathe out your name
even if it never left my throat