My grandmothers returned from the village: some spilled sugar over tea bags; sunshine… magnolias painted with citrus grocery lists—always stained and lullabies on guitared
I remember this place. I open where the spine surrenders and find the bookmark of peeled nails as though it has been minutes
Blood of tomatoes flung against slammed doors, here are the embers of our old fights— Drawn to fever, orange embers trail me like Beijing