Me, a hummingbird
deep into Friday night’s nectar. Intoxication took me to
Torpor. I fly backwards into
Saturday afternoon, consuming for the both of
Us.
Maybe one day…
and the petunia’s bloom in my backyard. I’d like
to drink from winter’s air and
wake us from hibernation. I’ll migrate to my last dream
And pluck you from it. Listen to this sugared sound and
have a taste from my newfound
Garden. Use this map of velvet petals until you confuse their touch
With mine.

Emily Jacko is an MFA student at Chatham University. She studies Creative Writing and Pedagogy. She writes about nature and the human experience that is mirrored throughout. She uses extended metaphor to convey a unique experience for the reader. She is a member of the LGBT+ community and is published in OPEN: Journal of Arts & Letters.