The sun will be setting in a few hours,
but it’s still high enough to feel guilty
about being in pajamas.
We watch movies about being and spirituality.
My chest burns yet I keep on feeding my habit.
She is shaving her legs now.
“We’re exciting people, man.”
My back hurts: slouched and slumped shoulders.
The kitchen is bare; pancakes sit on the counter
getting cold and stale.
We’re not hungry.
I am always hungry.
I want a drink and the control
to not constantly move my hands
towards my mouth.
We are two hours behind in the future.
Our legs hurt;
we stretch them out.
Blankets and water make
moving this slow acceptable.
And then we’re okay.