Blistered is what we were, I know, and then soothed
though not often enough. I scraped raw,
I scalded, I cooed, I gauzed.
The night-blooming jasmine
swirls through the sick room.
Billy Holiday for psalms, peacocks for their flair
which is teal….teal and sighted.
You: the steel that nothing, not even the peach, dissolves.
You, who have been the massive heart that
despite the skips.