love roe

Sunrise
are you tired of my tears
beating a path to
your mailbox [?]

i’ve christened
them in 90 proof
whiskey

still they flip
me off and knock
upon notifications

“it’s me again.
wallowing. joyful.
sad. hopeful. me.
the known unknown.”

it’s just an idea
a thought that feels
real for 90 seconds
as the alarm rings
to remind me
i’m cooking and burning
dinner

i run to amend the
temperature
to open a door
a window
whilst swiping away
at inconsolable tears

wondering wondering wondering
where you are hurting or joying
and whether in either case
you are hungry for food
or dessert
and whether anything i might
put together could ever be
enough to sustain you

why were we created with a need for food
when its authenticity is so seemingly
sparse?
Sunset