And then through the soliloquy of my stare,
Another shift under his blankets
His sweet curls
IF Jack Forst used chocolate as a medium
This hair would sleep on my windshield
Blue eyes so bleary and red; I was tempted to pledge allegiance
He said:
"Hey, you."
And then the yellow head, to no one specifically:
"Hi."
And then I understood.
This was the way the world ended: an informal greeting from the lips of a yellow-haired roasted kitten,