THEATER OF FLOWERS
It seems that someone came and drank your water
While you were in bed dreaming of Vada,
But things are not as scary as they look:
The fruit is safe—maybe too safe in its cup.
Later we’ll confess our crimes and have some tea,
And we can take these tools and build the scenery
To deliver us all from all we mistook,
Into this scene about to happen in the book,
Where nothing is still, not even the fruit,
And buds start to rise from this dusty shoot.
– Pia Marrella Cisternino