A poetry journal of everyday clippings |
| Well beyond being spring chickens, my friend and I reinvent ourselves in a Chinese Restaurant, opening up secrets, as we talk of torn away, defamed loves. I fear the grey plate, and united like sisters playing the fool, the chopsticks are out to get me. Then, the fortune cookie clenched in my hand crumbles like an obscene gesture. “Make someone else happy.” The words shake like dice, as I pause to sip diet Coke, mulling over the speech of our food. |