Bits of orange stuck in the cracks of my teeth.
These teeth of mine that overlap.
And intertwine, and won't grow back.
I always pick the coldest seat on the bus. Everyone with mental disabilities, and/or little black hymn belting sons on the bus today was exceedingly and strangely friendly.
My hair has no product in it. And my face doesn't either.
Mom just made tomorrow morning's coffee.
