There was a day handed to us:
-glass cup filled up to it’s brim with red dust/black soil/pink corals/silver fleck-
we drank it and we were fine.
We looked at each other laughing-
“the world will be ending tomorrow. It will:
spit out a flame tipped soprano to sing you into sleep;
gush poison into your child’s open mouth
with the fish they will drown;
gently wrap our bones in sweating palm fronds;
leave us alone to suck at our wealth from underneath the soil.”
We drank red dust together and we laughed
-you had started to tear your hair out because you’d always wanted
to shave it all off-
and we were fine.