how the cookie crumbles
she sat on the loveseat
eating a kit kat bar
four fingers of chocolaty deliciousness
each one with her name on it
there was no room for sharing
not tonight
not with abandonment
hovering in the air above her
becoming thicker as each finger
evaporated into her mouth
call it a pout or call it a frown
but it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon
even after all four fantastical fingers
were replaced by yet another
unwrapped panacea
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
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