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
sweetness. Still, I don’t appreciate
what she said. No,
No, I have fun…
Based on a model poem from Bird Mejia’s poetry workshop. Thanks, Bird!