So I learned
to become this
California
poppy
Seed muffin
Cute as a
pink cocktail, chilled, sweating,
And twice as
dangerous when had on an empty stomach
I feel eyes,
searching noses
On my box of
Girl
Scout
cookies ripped open
Tears fall
at the sight of my
Spilled milk
A porcelain
cookie jar aching with regret
And one
million attempts at optimism
Swan throat,
feathering thoughts, white knuckles
Gritted my
teeth through this doctor’s appointment of a life
Strawberry short
stack,
I have been forked
And knifed
in the back
Hands sticky
with my own syrup on my favorite kind of afternoon
My daydreams
are the color of a black widow’s teeth
My skin and
my conscience stained
With room
temperature champagne
And jam
I put the
gore in gourmet really,
And to ask
for a a to-go box hardly seems necessary
No comments:
Post a Comment