Although
I don’t remember specifics
I believe I had some leftover shake
I don’t remember any clear plastic baggie
nor how much was in it
(******* worth?)
But at the time
I had been doing a good deal of baking
Savory tortes
Fluffy quiches
Cookies always
And so I made a batch of brownies
Dark and Chewy?
That I’d like to think but I don’t remember
What I do know is that I tried them
and decided that
I wouldn’t share
Not really
They were that good
A dreamy sweet high
Really nice
Lovely in fact
But eventually
I softened and wrapped up maybe
Two
And took them to Venice

I don’t remember who got the first one
but I gave the second
to an inveterate ‘head’
****** since birth
most likely
I thought out of everyone
she would appreciate it the most
A connoisseuse
And I waited for her critique
I might add that although is seemed irrelevant
To me
she was what they refer to as
Rock-and-Roll Royalty
‘so-called’
and her then Fuckbuddy Roommate was
an Actor (aspiring)

The critique came sure enough
But not what I had expected
as
She didn’t eat it
But gave it in turn to him, the Fuckbuddy
Passing it along
To curry favor
To advance in the entanglement
To keep him interested and provided for
-i got you baby-
And not to make
too strong a point
but I didn’t much like the guy

It would have been a sad enough fate
for the Little *** Brownie
If it had ended there
but the Fuckbuddy
brought it along to a meeting
To a casual tête-a-tête with
A Major Hollywood Film Director
Huge, at the time
An auteur
Of course
You know his Work
He’ll be considered iconic
at some point
If not already
And the Little *** Brownie was passed along again
To curry favor
To create a connection
To cast the glow of good fellowship and commiseration
The wink
The nod
But this time it was eaten
And afterwards the
Major Hollywood Film Director
I was told
made a personal phone call
To let the Fuckbuddy know
About upcoming projects
Most likely those that
would never include him
And to state:
‘by the way, that brownie you gave me...
It Wasn’t Any Good.’

In turn
The Fuckbuddy (who scored a major TV role without a brownie and subsequently dumped her)
let Royalty know too
And she,
in turn
Rolled it back to me
So the moral of the story is:
Be Mindful With Whom You Share Your Gifts

"Fuckbuddy" does not apply when there is no intimate relationship between two people. But thanks for your input. Everyone feels a lot less stressed and irritated now that you're gone.

when she walks in,
home is no longer
a home, nothing but
nicotine-stained walls,
a collision of
          sc a t t  ere   d
          s  (ca n         't)
          m e m or ie   s

she's––
( your go-to fuckbuddy.)
––stretched by your side,
laid out bare against
mussed up sheets and
tracing the lines of your ribs
with the pads of her fingers:
your cruel mistress,

and you're
a ******* mess
of blue lips and
trembling hands
even cigarettes and candy
can't seem to quell

your mom’s Honda

my thighs stick to one another
as you stick to me
the AC in your car imitates the moans we make
the windows that look like we just got out of a shower

it’s already hot enough in the backseat of your mom’s Honda
as we hold each other
my forehead against your chest
as the heat makes us lazy with lust

your chest expands and deflates
and i can hear your heartbeat slow to a normal rate
but after I’m sure you’re asleep
i gently get out of your arms, untangling myself

I want to be more than just your late night call
or your fuckbuddy
just another one of your girls you take into your mom’s Honda
and treat her like a queen the night of, and trash the next morning

this woman doesn’t want to sleep on uncomfortable and chunky seats
this woman deserves a man, not a boy
this woman deserves someone who treats her right
this woman wants someone who is not afraid to be loyal

and since you can’t provide that,
this woman is leaving
locking the door behind me
and opening the side of your mom’s Honda

the oil filler cap clicks between my fingers
and as i throw the cap behind me
my other hand flicking open a lighter, I ignite it with my anger
and I watch the skeleton of your car blaze with the sparks we felt

and that was the end of you and your mom’s Honda