my bare feet greet particles of sand on the hardwood
i pull the refrigerator open and scavenge for something refreshing
and i rip a lightly spotted banana off it’s bunch.
“did you sleep last night?”
my mother’s coffee bubbles and spatters in the ***
black caffeine pours into a round white mug
with a splash of half and half and a complementary swig of sugar.
“no.”
i dab a napkin over an orange spot on my light tee shirt
the morning sunlight brightens me as it reflects off the table
a chilled breeze makes the grass’s dew shiver, and it creeps into the kitchen.