continue shaking the bottle. the misplaced lid struggles to keep up with the slapstick pressure of her blistered right palm. the granules refuse to dissolve, and they team up to form an island, patchwork nation where flora and fauna write well-intentioned law. find a sunlit space. a loved one tells her to close her eyes and wave at the scowling men whose lawns hiss below. stirring her coffee with an off-white straw, she walks along broken lines, kicking the rocks whose tips have gone dry and sharp, initials like kohl. stretch across the pavement. her dog is smiling shyly like nurses at humid dawn who gently touch the shoulders of those who dodged the fire. the men stand upright and demand an explanation for her lateral complacence, young chapped lips in no way pursed as noon burns like lye. continue to sip and shine.