it’s a long walk
for a flat
green leaves expressing spear tips.
Sticky, fresh smell,
Leaks onto our thighs and cools quick and dirty.
Tangled mass of venetian blinds
Scream, clattering into the night.
You said it’s a lack if sensitivity, or manners,
Cigarette burning on the countertop at the edge of the porcelain sink.
Into a cap declaring fortune
Cookie fables of defeat.
Cotton swab ends
On man’s breath,
Dandelion of the yellow cheeks
Streak the tiles
With blood in your elegant injection’s
(sarah k. chavez 2009)