eight hours of

pulling off the top of the container,
the smell of raspberry tea rising
as i tilt it forward;

a distraction and a porch light,
the stars in shades of orange,
a violin in the background (or is it cicadas?);

husbands or boyfriends?
forgetting to think about that
and thinking about you instead;

scared and knowing i shouldn't be,
surprised and still trying to get my head around it,
switching a useless black for a warm blue;

raspberry tea
dripping down my wrist
and onto the floor.