you smiled just now at the soil
and i felt a cherry tomato burst
on my tongue
(is there juice dripping from my chin)
blistering hands achy knees
bees landing in the flower you folded
in my hair
there was no tomato. but
may i kiss your eyelids over again
with fraught lips
(that will not stain with their wanting)
past the frost bitten season
and digging now for brightness, worms squiggle
through our hands
summer will come and we must wait
to see what will grow between us
