Eyes
staring
into the blank screen
like a blank page
rapidly yellowing
a muscle rapidly
degenerating
dessicating
what once was lush
filled with juice
I could hit you
but I feel like an old boxer now
no fight left
to throw a punch out
and collide with a mirror
a minor cut and scrape
a bruise on an ego
and then we're laughing
sitting kissing
soft wet red lips
under a mango tree