day 32

32 sugar packets

for an extra bitter coffee

we don't treat each other with love.

money eyes and hungry hands are present

only in the absence of love

you are holding 32

gift boxes of

strawberry frosting

on miniature marble cupcakes

even pastries can't decide whether they love someone or not

everything is always black and white

everything should always be black and white

black or white

or strawberry frosting captured in sepia

distinguish is a silly verb.

why did i bother paying an extra 32 cents for an extra bitter coffee?

32 sugar packets won't make me feel any more awake

and my teeth are going to rot

from our dying tongue kissing hellos

nothing makes sense

your tongue speaks fibs from rented violin bows

ribbon wrapped gift boxes

of miniature marble cupcakes

nothing is either vanilla or chocolate

or black or white

or strawberry frosted indecisiveness

you speak silly words

32 days a month

i lay listening to little neighbor church boy

practice with his rented violin bows

sometimes

i can't distinguish between the screeching music

or screeching tires on this slippery wet pavement

route 32 is slippery wet

we are driving each other mad.

i love you 32 days a month

but

how