Break Fast
With an unsteady hand I pour orange juice into a tall periwinkle glass while the refrigerator door swings open too far, banging into the bathroom door noisily, clumsily. The white linoleum floor feels as slippery as the space between me and the hurried dinner you’re eating, although it doesn’t expand far enough. Maybe if each painted square spanned a mile of stone and clay and terror, and its emptiness was […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 