shades of blue and sweet perfume
my body is starting to feel
like the knotted tree
i pass on 53rd street.
it’s slender and worn,
tired from standing on its own
every now and then,
the day folds itself
in a way
that makes me believe
there is a heaven.
the sky bleeds from lilac
how is it
that every night,
the tiny wings
of fruit flies
find their way
into my room?
what lures them