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Apr 2014
Six pregnant cigarettes later
a mint julep poured and tasted
fingers licked while lips drunk sting
and sweat beads and rolls on upper lip.

A lean on outdoor table with
feet raised on outdoor chair and
grass greener than the impressionists
while the sevens and eights dance
with awkward hair and chocolate stains
a look from picture window
and ribeye steak and butter in the pan.

Fish and gills in the air and salt
drops on tiny blue eyeballs
so squints make their way gracefully
into every last family portrait.
Lyzi Diamond
Written by
Lyzi Diamond
559
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