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Halo around the sun
The librarian’s face is a lagoon.
My hesitation sends
a wave across the water.
How long will you stay? she asks.
When did you arrive?
It is three days since my ei
proclaimed me as a visitor,
creamy flowers scenting me
with breaths of homecoming.
At night, not willing to let it perish
I placed my garland in the refrigerator
with mangoes, avocados,
a starfruit. Next morning the chill
was a balm to my skin
but the decay had gone too far
to wear. I carried the fragrance
to a tree with an unknown name.
Wreathed in shade, I tore the ei
into potpourri, dropped the pieces
into a ready pair of clam shells.
Stayed to watch until a centipede
rowed across the petals
with his hundred-and-seven legs.