The unruly mango pit you gave up
on peeling from my teeth.
 
Send yourself to bed without supper.
Boil water and refuse that tea
 
I kept for years for a special
occasion that never arrived.
 
Suck on honeysuckle blossoms,
their fleeting sweetness enough
 
of this earth. The unopened jam jars
and shrub in the pantry soured
 
from ants and mold. A promise,
a primrose, a poison, soaked
 
and plumped for molds I fill
with cake batter but never bake.