I had a dream last night that the tomatoes came back after the frost.
Already ripening and forgiving me for planting late,
or not protecting them
from the cold.

They were rewarding me with fruit,
for at very least, being sorry.

And I was showering outdoors under a trellis of leaves.
Bright pink bubbles of shampoo running over my shoulders in daylight.
but then the suds all turned into stinging bees.

And I knew that the venom would engulf me.
The pain to start any second now and my throat would seize.
Revenge for the crime of trying to be clean.

At very least. Clean. and at very least. Sorry.