More than a liquid fish, she was a fighter.
She sat, hands tight into fists,
she dreamed.
There in the bowl were chocolate-covered peanut butter balls,
ready to be bowled over
with powdered sugar.
How could she resist, you thought.
She was angry. That was how.
Be the bigger person, she thought,
as she day-dreamed.
But all she saw was angry red, angry heart.
You wondered what you’d done.
It seemed like it had just been you breathing
that brought this red rage.
But it was more.
Can you make the cocoa balls, she would have asked if she could
have spoken clearly through gritted teeth.
Can you save a little more time for me?
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