__ days

How sweet this growing sensation!

Our puckered bodies 

huddled in my golden room.

Sucking on small tomatoes -

Oh, The wicked fate of consumption.

In this heat,

it's my black linen pants and

your sweetly decorated arms.

The image of nurturing Madonna is blown softly by the fan in the window.

What do you whisper to her when I fall asleep?

Photo by Isabel Ames