i hope tonight that you will touch my hair and draw ghosts on my back

i lay on the air mattress giving thumbs up signs
i shaved
i slapped my face last time i yawned and i haven't yawned since
i peered through the deep layer of oil and pronounced it simmering
i listed spinal marrow as the virtue of oxtail
i told joe i don't care what time you show up
i bought five ounces of poppy seeds on sale
i preemptively imagined me feeling awkward if we should not catch a bus quickly
i closed the book because i cannot read about human bones cracked open for marrow any longer
i called myself moralist