How to grow it & pick it & grow it again: tenderness, what can you tell me about crumbling porch steps, how drinking tea, even cold, is like the moment you cross the state line to home? By the time I cross the park to get to your door, it's your first time in Ohio. I take pictures & send them.

I take pictures & send them—flowers, not nudes. At least one garden gay in every group text. Tenderness: what I need to know about arriving at your door. I have seen more crumble than Ohio porch steps, than home. Did someone kiss you or call you faggot or both? It is spring & every flower is new.