Made

Added on by Steven Casale.

Strings of potted lavender
bend over the balcony
railing, your shoulders lower
toward pebbly spine.

After the fucking is done, you
dangle, your globe secure in a
skin purse. My body ripe
with courage, having come
here, across the world.

You tell me about double consonants,
holding tongue to teeth,
pulling it back like ice.

Fatto.