came to inspect the house
you said I could paint your walls
bend one knee to scoop up a caterpillar
discarded from a fallen leaf near a jacaranda
spraying purple against the cotton-soft breeze
working up to scorch
not yet December but the mercury already had
soaked up the sun to the high 30s
I was thirsty
don’t paint his walls, Mum tells me
in a dream
better to take it slow
caterpillar grows a chrysalis
waiting for the shield to dissolve.