a lost email from Annette

you are the butterfly on a mango tree
in jamaica.
you stopped by on your way,
going somewhere,
else.
you forgot to notify my subject line
that you had disappeared from my dreams.
because today i woke up and
you just weren't there,
clear and empty space wished me good morning
and i sat down with a frumpy face
on the grass.
the mangoes and me,
we made some juice with rhinestones
and sang scientific sound them out words, together
as we waited patiently for
jamaican rain
to wash away your foot prints
from the mangoes you used to perch
your stringy legs on.

in new haven it rains.
footprints disappear from mangoes all the time and sometimes
it's hard to remember if they were ever
there at all, but i know that if i
just close my eyes,
behind this purple eyeshadow
i will see your wings fluttering around
my mango tree,
like a ghost from a far away memory
except it hasn't happened yet,
so keep fluttering, and i'll
see you there-
or somewhere-
sometime soon.

DLS
Berkeley dining hall's ghostwriter