The rain, and its concentration
on the back of your neck
the tiny hairs
on your tiny neck
Fixation has always favored the anxious

I'm not Fixated I'm furious
that life wasn't what they said it would be
that my strawberries are moldy
and half the world can't eat them anyways
that you never wear the colors
that made me like you in the first place
that now even I can't remember how you taste