when i saw the trumpeter blow / the horn, my jericho heart came down, / moved from flesh to fluid.
Your head is a Lazy Susan / spinning busy, out of control / like the wheels of time grinding / you down
we linger on your hangnails, / preparing to be chewed away.
Dez is not a morning person. I remind myself of the fact when I feel the urge to ruffle his hair. His snapping turtle role isn’t worth a few moments of happiness. In the end, it’s my feelings that’ll be hurt and Dez who won’t remember what he said, halfheartedly apologizing in his boxers over coffee before I go to work.