you say hello, the desire for
melted halfway, ice cubes
thrown into a waxing cup
where coffee rests level
to small, sleepy secrets
that tease our clear beads
spinning on dry ground.
Cats No. 80 and 81 of the 500 Cats Project
the rusted abrasion
that, for a little while,
left you thinking twice
about floor plans started.
whether they’d pay for themselves
within the almost rude visibility
of uneven paint, scratches on walls
reminding you of detached voicemails
so flat, and barely a fine example,
of how one relays quaint rejection.
spend some time
by dimming stoplights
meeker than all your points
made with mechanical pencils
broken thanks to their stubborn will.
Cat No. 79 of the 500 Cats Project