at night, a bowl of almonds from your mother’s teacup,
the refrigerator humming. in the morning,
cold golumpki, straight from the tupperware.

tell me what’s so bad about leftovers?
everything comes from something.

i mean, honey, chocolate truffles, cappuccino milk,
me. is it time that is meaningless, or is it the weather?

i admire nature, this mountaintop, the way it rains here,
like god is crying, but god is not crying.

do you remember when the sun came up?
my legs were on your legs. i was wearing tights
because it was cold. i was wearing shorts
because it should’ve been warm.

that was the harvest of you loving me.

in some hemisphere, it must be spring.
in that place, we feast. in this place, we eat.