there are cut lines of powder
on a mirror on my desk
and I am doing my best
not to think of what you would say
if you knew
there are eight reasons
in my gut
for why I am failing
and I am railing
so hard against myself
that all you see is me
keeping busy
I am offering my palm
to the sun each morning
giving my green thumb to the plants
on my window sill
layering my face with aloe leaves
you might find it hard to believe
what I do
on a tuesday night