Sunday Sundries

1/22/2023 the time

the time my friend
was jealous, because
the woman who wanted women,
he had a crush on, complemented
my lips as being big &
lush, even though we
had just met
Con/Jur/d 1/22/2023

The sun had just set, and the grass rose
above the small city miasma, cloaking
everything in a vegetal contentment

Underneath, I was flattered
mainly, embarrassed

The old wooden stairs creaked
someone, faceless, laughed
pleasantly while crickets
began & a streetlight
flickered

like we used to.

Much love,

Con/Jur/d, 1/22/2023