Erika Howsare


What found led to is


In gardenia of wet
July wedding is suitcase
scented, a gesture found

On first of many days,
its opening a fission

Or fusion and attics stratified
in flat-lying pages, sifting into soil
like newspaper can, copy rotting itself
into itself at the feet of tomato plants

Or split the fruit with blade or finger or press
into book, a splayed shift of seed,
flesh as new gesture on page:

First night of new marriage:

Not reading, not thinking of any of this
as gesture, only opening
a suitcase

Or many days of blooming books, read
and so known, then stored

Many hours of thinking of how tomatoes
need and are food

Of smelling gardenias and finding
what is to find