after Christopher Citro’s “Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks”
except both
is just me
6pm & barefoot
in the kitchen
coring apples for my first oat-
meal of the day
a promise
of warmth
to a still
living body I never learned
to take care of
what is so intuitive
about surviving?
some days
all I can do
is tuck myself in
only
to kick the covers off
maybe none of us know
how much water
is too much water
the line between
drought
& drowning
is not a line
but an exhale
a forgotten
pothos balanced
on my too small kitchen
window
tender & crawling
yet
Regina Sung