Fiery breath smokes the air.
I inhale through my mouth and hold the air fast,
And hold myself still.
My eyes roll backwards as my shoulder stretches,
Strumming a tendon into tremors
producing in me
trembles from the
Shades drawn tight against the sky’s night.
Cicadas chirpin’ lazy protest.
I espy a note on my coffee table:
“Ruin your own show. Don’t feed me soft words, when my eyes go hard.”
My cheeks burn vermillion in the morning air.
I will wear my hair straight today.