Brenda Lurleen Comes for Cookies

Girl, you work too much.

Where’s the fun?

she says as she picks up a cookie.

The way she brings the ginger snap

 to her frosted pink lips and carefully,

gently nibbles its edge,

shocks me. I assumed brazen

meant voracious, over-indulgent.

I munch on my own cookie, inhaling

awakened spicy

sweetness. Still, I don’t appreciate

what she said. No, 

 I protest.

No, I have fun…

Based on a model poem from Bird Mejia’s poetry workshop. Thanks, Bird!

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