piff piff flew

cross-legged on the kitchen tile.

dust and dirt left under the cabinets.

i wonder when she last cleaned. maybe i should do that later.

look at my legs.

bug bites, chipped polish, i should put on lotion.

sigh- feel the width of your body

rest head on neck bent

over legs

over the tiles

what are you doing?

i don't know

i don't know.

no pressure and no noise

no chaos to push me forward

it's got to come from in here

stomach

please don't hand me a quarter and a coke.

if i had a tent or a typewriter to throw in the river, i would.

i really promise that i would.

choose to say goodbye

and don't acknowledge my poor choices;

they're shameful.