the tomatoes don’t like rain.
the chilies don’t like cold.
its cold and rainy here.
i fantasize about Seattle,
pretend it isn’t grey and rainy
most of the time.
the drops panic me
in summer
it quickly becomes hail.
lost a whole balcony to hail
the way i lost my feeling
that same summer.
I was blue every weekend,
not just when it hailed.
but especially then.
we have become stuck
(repeating myself).
(repeating myself).
I have been blue
ever after.