The transition from skin was so smooth,
it made me shiver.
Red, green, striped, crisp, sour, sweet:
all types were made easier than those before them.
An unprecedented history of snacking,
made me want to cut my feet into tiny parts and make a snapping sound.
I watched a commercial for happiness.
It was in the looks the actors gave each other while driving down a winding road
and while chasing each other between flags of ultra white laundry on a perfect summer’s day.
They had it on the couch snuggled with a bag of something salty,
and they had it in the morning, sun streaming on the crisp sheets,
with their arms perfectly locked into a position I don’t have the key for.
A history of watching, and then
no one feels like you.
No one feels like this chip bag,
or the way this bill made my skin wink, sting, and then bleed out.
New shoes carry a specific soreness, you have to break them in.
I make xs in my mosquito bites with my longest nail.
So I fall before you,
not like an alter,
like a knock-out.
I’ll let my head rest a little