My fifth finger has a splinter so the ‘A’ to my keyboard is drowned in red/ I poured hot tequila warmed from it’s life on the shelf in the cup with pulp-less cherries/ melted sugar water & residue sewed into the bottom of the blender with a crusted needle/ things are only gross if you think about it for too long/ there is sweat dripping down my thigh as I write this in the Carolina heat/ maybe it is sunscreen that dried wrong/ or not dried at all/ everything is pointless & there is no world where you don’t matter.