The t.v. keeps us occupied
while beauty runs out.
In lulls, I trust my surgically
manicured eyebrows to no one but you.
It would be a tragedy
not to pollinate the match,
but there are one too many
spaces under construction of words.
On the bright side we store up karma
before the look on your face reminds me
that the garden is loyal.
We shall move our hydrangeas
into more shade.
Don't you realize I'd say
yes to anything you want?


Sara Fielder © July 2018