garnet red is cherry Kool-Aid on a hot summer’s day, the last day of school — no more bullies or lockdowns, the flood of ’73, when we promised we’d get out of here alive
these daffodils bend like soldiers on their last leg of endless wars, I cut them smartly stem to stern, for my makeshift glass apartment, before the bees and the next dust storm, they smell like the cinnamon candy my favorite aunt — the one who never called me a whore like my mother — used to tuck into my tiny little dirty hands
Lillian would’ve been my daughter’s name, nobody knows but you, now
now, you are addicted to me
it’ll be our secret
Originally published at https://carolbankswebercoggie.wordpress.com on April 2, 2021.