Three shades of afternoon light—gluttonous—
Salt me when I open the door
I wasn’t expecting it
Marigold mouths pout Fresh leaves threaded to greet newcomers
What a betrayal then, to curdle with sweetness!
Bile sapped with vestal orange stains my fingers
I reach into plaster mouths
Feel stems arranged in comedy
An uncaring sweetness hinges the door
Humid wood tumescent
I walk along the mud road lined with banana plants
My brother measures the lost inches with a ruler
3 and a quarter, over Kendrick Lamar
Refracted, he buries his face into a pillow
I block sounds of cilia rustling
Warmth after lunch blisters glass
Blues and ochres echo
Inside, cold milk quails acid reflux
Throats plummet into fragrance
A single body rests under a cotton rajai
I am scared of pleasure
Who to think of?
I stop it
I am angry for not having self-respect
Xylem stains yellow blankets
The lawn furrowed and restless
In the garden bulbous with marigold:
Cousins teach grandmas how to dance
In the shade, my mother oils my hair
She makes a French braid Trusting hands gentle on grass a laughing mirage
A veil of dry flowers covers quiet neem
An arid night-sheet wrung twice more, gaping and free