dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: calendars

We move with inky shoes 
Across desk calendars,
Jogging twice around
Each day’s black square,
Squeezing our bodies
Through cursive reminders,

Dyeing hair to match
Highlighted events,

Stopping only to glance
At the numbered sun
In the left hand corner.

You smile
As you rip calendars
With your teeth,

Summer to come soon,

This semester won’t take long,

We won’t feel tomorrow.

The way your earrings dance
When you cock your head
Says cheerful small talk
Is your specialty.

But I hear death’s
Hollow shouts
Echoing in each drop of
Honey that slides
Down the sides
Of your mouth

And sticks
To the day planner
You clutch on your desk.