found by the side of a ditch in the middle of june, p.
is as pretty as a peach & he believes in leaves
& marriage, too. we riddle what brings to us the joys
of the domestic; we deduce that our hearts generate
as much eat as a salad
in the spring. they write
to each other à la folio. we are of age –
whatever glory or melancholy it brings
& we sing. when dandelions make us piss
pearl, we know it is the greatest part
of the summer. we hang a root from our child’s neck
during teething & our child will thank us when he is calmer.