The Evening Meal

Inside the origami, you will never find my love letter.

The lost of appetite
desire, an aspiration to achieve something
the origami sets alongside the departed flora
afflicted by its intent's neglect
or be it self pity
acquired for unexplainable reasoning of moments departed
within, a concealed letter by no means to be read
so the contentment could be his own
but in his head wolf could imagine her chuckling
chuckling at all the poetry, songs and beliefs provoked by her
and so he would speculate as to why fox wouldn’t
as he fixated on his bland bowl of noodle soup
forgetting the ingredients
maybe a little hoisin sauce
tomorrow, the flora and the bird of brilliant emerald
tomorrow it will be gone
after he takes out the trash
and along with it
his childish proposals.