I am sugar
for flies
without wings
fresh air
for hallways
of stale perfume
my words get wrinkles
to bend and stretch
like the good ol’ days
twisting our histories
we look back together
touch a funny bone
brush shoulders
laugh
because it feels good
when you’re old
to feel something good
I heard this idea that what’s in the frig says a lot about who you are lots of leftovers say you hold on to things cuz you might need them nearly ripened fruit whisper you like to wait for the perfect
the green mangoes in my yard are in a hurry to gestate a promise these children of a tree are pushing up delivery of another birth their buttery sweetness into the cribs of mouths to showers of ooohs
clean yes but not looking my best after a shower I need a petal dryer the sun some primping by the wind my face needs lifting to hold proud and high for the public reveal I must bloom my best you kn