Eve

I'm never ready
When she drops that word
Into her sister's lap
And hurries off,
A naughty child,

Or how she pinches,
Twists my nipple
Till it stings,

The laugh she blossoms
From her chest
Whenever I pronounce
Often with a T.

I know her cherished pleasures,
Her instinctive habits,
How she takes her coffee,
But she's still a stranger.

In the field,
We mash a mesh of fingers
Letting sunlight drip through
Like river water.
Everything escapes
And slips right through,
No matter how we press
So tightly.

- 4/1/26

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