Roaches and Jasmine
The jasmine under my backyard oaks is blooming. Thick, dirtyground cover and reaching white blossoms, like pinwheels, stir the air.The breeze carries their scent to our cocoons, our bodies curledtoward one another in separate cerulean hammocks. We pinch timeand pass joints rolled tight by your hands, much bigger than mine.Hands that didn’t help me hang the blue hammocks between the… Read more →