back when we were paper cups, we could draw our damage up,
maybe when i’m old enough,
can really clear a room.
crease my heart and hope to breathe, wear my gills along my sleeve,
we’re the greater you recieve,
with other things to do.
here my quilt goes out of view, pulling flowers from the fruit,
now there’s me and then there’s you,
and there’s love in my haiku.