I bite into the nectarine from across the street
and as I walk back
I run into you with no warning
and your hug is soft
we talk about how the weather
is the same as a year ago today
and even though you didn't ask
I find myself telling you how nectarines are in season
and the stains on my fingers
remind me of the way you paint

I met a libra once
and their path was a case of entropy
the plants that grow through their feet
are a case of sacred geometry
I know that our bridges have taken months to construct
and should be walked over carefully
So I bring my palms together
only to open them more gently