Ladyhill

                          sweet and sticky summer scents

                           I indulged savory mangosteen

                                                       —toucans—

                and played to the music of our imagination

                          his dreams: of another lady bird

                            coral beaks on dark and light

     mine: of eating peaches and mangos and carambola and—

                 sour

                  honeyed

                                                             tangerines.

                                   slowly caramelizing in the

                                   sun—

                                       and I

                                   we were not quite friends

                                              but mutual

                       —she would scorch my skin into a tan

                          and make her way through my eyes

                                  as I failed to see the sky—

                                   sister sister! falls to water!

                                      the sunkissed roads

                                         of peacock water

                                        her eyes are blind

                                    she closes them tight—

   I giggle. behind Miss Joaquim’s blooms.

                                                  Oh!

                                         favorite shoes!

                                             green heels

                                     like green hills.

                                             wet and floating among saffron-golds.

                                                                        like tips of leaves

                                                                                  it dips

                                                                     and drowns—

                                                                                   i cry;

                                                                                   dimples dripping off my face.

                                         sister overturns

                                h o l y! see the shapes of

                                  whipped stuff in the sky?

                                        floating with her

                                    head to the heavens

                                              so blue

                                           but not blue

                                             so white

                                          but not quite

                                 clouded by the she star

                          who bleached my brown hair light

                     —and I ate my deep purple mangosteen

                         which truth be told is white inside—

                  my carambola which would cut into stars—

                                               starfruit!

                                 I cackled like dragon fruit.

                                                             ladyhill

                                  three ladies and one hill.