shed coral scales

& sunrise. In England, the inside

is ashen. She touches tangerine flowers,

when a woman

exiting her home in Camberwell cries,

go back to where you come from, as if

she carries still the scent

of dragon-fruit. I swallow

cherry stones. I flower

your abandoned garden

in my belly, to carry in me the whispers

of all your lost colours. I dream

in shades of lilac. Sometimes

my tummy hurts.