plums melt on linens
washed
just yesterday
the stain
is shaped like her face
she thinks
a fan moves the air
but she has no desire
to rise
she cannot tell
her daughter
about her bed
about her cold
pillow & sweat-
drenched sheets
or how figs
are the only food
worth eating
in august
when all she really wants, really,
is the taste of ash