A pink sky is wrapping around the broad banana tree leaves. They are shining black. The pool is filling with blue light. Besides the pool, the green hose is lying tangled. The surface of the canal is the altar, accumulating trash. An image is circling. The ceiling fan is spinning in my phone screen’s reflection. A purple sky is wrapping around the broad banana tree leaves. The silhouette of a road is turning out of view, surrounded by streetlights. The ceiling fan is spinning inside the sliding glass door’s reflection. Sprays of an indigo sky are flickering through the shredded edges of the broad banana tree leaves. A green light is turning on from the bottom of the canal, flattening all of the ripples. The tangles are slowly twisting loose as the hose gets dragged back into the hose reel.
There is nothing we can do. There is nothing we can do here.
