remember that storm?
the trees became horizon –
a sideways zipper.
tornados sealed the world
who appeared ripping.
my face likewise gathers
flowers in each crease.
afar a sunset’s glow
up close, a garden.
every crevice, my mothers hand
all sweat all storm, a watering can
that permits my face to blossom.
even elbows bloom.
beauty passes down
through fingertips of rain.
what was dry became fertile
once tickled.