we were real hungry and half dead 

when you broke out half a loaf of sourdough bread. 

and in the tropical air the scent rose like a spirit. 

moments of grace like this being wholly unmerited. ahh. 



we were newly alive and I felt your hand on my arm. 

I was awake to the sensation and immune from all harm. 

you pressed your soft cheek up against my gut. 

pure gold. nothing but gold,

and I'm gonna bake you a nice coconut cream pie. 

'cause I saw the sky coming down to meet you.