hoi polloi
or hoi sophoi
but tell me
who is the god of hangover?
i will not remember
because recall hurts
like full body dehydration
cowling and coloured pencils
no closure and heated wires
energy transfers
held to my skin
like i'm not made to be a mother,
me,
but i tried to be sweet
heart never unbroken
sorry for myself
i signed my name
and overshared
the worse for rarity
like inside pastel setting spray
i am now vulnerable to unknown quantities
in shifting tense
were i inappropriate?
and then tearfully thankful for the bare minimum
i sickened me
now maillard complexities
is my oven lying to me?
must i press its buttons?
consider its hotspots?
such fears i trade for crispy pasta
i'm like oil pastel detailing
gross
