“Tomatoes”

In the depth of the window sill

back behind the shadow wall

I watched the vines climb,

growing upward and out. 

Orange ember sat on the 

fence’s ledge, 

creeping to dry soil–

parched but sun fed.

I cannot stand to watch another fruit 

plop to the ground without 

myself to catch the fall. 

My hands tied around my mind

Bounded to my skull. 

The grass is bleeding out but

I’m not seeing how 

I can save 

what’s already gone. 

Evenings weighed in

heavy heat, gripping my limbs and

slipping against the surface of skin. 

We can’t kick it off.