Scribbling

scribbling on an iPad
as if to set it on fire
words float in mind
like cereals in the ocean
of oat milk

rub them well, squeeze them tight,
but they won’t stick
and morph into ugly
before you know it

yet, you row
row like there is a final stop
row like you will be saved
row like there will be an end
to this suffering one day

11.28.2021