whipped to a warm peak
warm strawberry slides to my finger
and under my tongue
savor one sunday afternoon.
A saccharine song:
i smell kyoto salt
that dries spring cherries
Gyokuro leaves play God
in an orange spill.
Monday hangs in the tub
tie the spine to the drain
a pisces yellow August
ends in a milky sleep.
Fill up your lungs
with rosemary and thyme.
her braid unravels
and you drive away.
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