Today the iris on the windowsill bloomed
White and violet and the petals
Shriveling back toward green daggers
as the sun reflects a second dawn from the windows across the street
A trip to the Ironbound,
Oranges lined up on the counter
small to large, each scrawled with text
Honey tangerine
Small navel
Larger navel
What is what
8 for a dollar
By the pound
The olive oil is dusted with a fine confection of salt
Half a papaya
The sparrows swim through the rafters
A dozen eggs
Whipped to a meringue
Bruises like thumbprints
No bigger than violets
What woman would not,
Like a cake of flexible fondant,
Look sublime in a dress of white satin meringue?
That liquid pearl drooling over the copper of her skin
2 dozen eggs, yolk in palm
And a date with a sweet tooth

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