
Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes

Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes

I looked and saw a sea

Blossoms of babies
Blinking their stories

Making rainy friends with packing-tape lens.

Whisper, timid breathing.

The earth’s mantle sits between liquid and solid. Plastic, like this lens.

Consume spring crocus, drunken eye focus.