we were real hungry and half dead when you broke out half a loaf of sourdough bread. and in the tropical air the scent rose like a spirit. moments of grace like this being wholly unmerited. ahh. we were newly alive and I felt your hand on my arm. I was awake to the sensation and immune from all harm. you pressed your soft cheek up against my gut. pure gold. nothing but gold, and I'm gonna bake you a nice coconut cream pie. 'cause I saw the sky coming down to meet you.