the garden is dark and I can’t remember how to dance. was it a two-step in the cabbage and
straight on ‘till the steps make sense? your hands are ghosts, your lips, ghosts.
I pulled all the tomatoes from the vine. I couldn’t see the red, so I stained my white
skirt. this evening is a two way street and I’m driving blind. Everything
I thought I knew about roots came out in the wash.