The world will always have sour plums
and I will always want them.
Love is a surprise party in another country.
He arrived to be the king of desire, of naming
the thing you want and then changing
its name. Prince of promise—
of getting the hell out of dodge.
We were never the same. Plum-colored universe,
spring sizzle of bees, cherry moon
of attention. Human hand. Bodies
scrubbed clean to match the rooms
behind our eyes we’ll fill with bliss.