If I Were You

If I were you

I would strain the wildflowers in my hands till they seeped into my skin

and flowed within my veins

Flower child they would call me, wild as the wildflower

I would be the muse

I hear there is no sting in it, only words I wouldn’t ever have to read

If I were you, that is.

If I were you

I would become my words in a raging conversation

Raging but meaningful

If I were you

I would smile from across the street

Hold your hand even if the practice is ancient

Sweep you off the ground as we would speak

But then if I were you, my love

Who would you be?