I Surrender

I surrender,
               
            I surrender,    I say

Hands raised high   like  a   popsicle stick

I am juiceless,
 
        and   only  surrounded by my

imperfections   and     a leaking heart.

Call to arms
and calling to you

calling out      and    between fingers, please

I am waving,   but

all you can see

is the space between  bended bone

Part of You Is Spilling

She has the face of an ice cream.
the cone,  my hand      beneath it,  cupped for the scoop

Part of you is spilling,   I say
all over me..          stop it.

My finger tips are not mountain ridges
but holes,  I tell you.   Holes.

You belong in a bowl,
                              now go.