Like the polar opposite of a bank teller
I flatten my crumpled bills in a pile.
Counting is the lowest form of mathematics,
yet I have a hard time keeping track of my cash.
I lose focus half way through
thinking of all the things I want to buy you.
I want you to be mine, honey,
but I'm as good at this as counting money.
YOU ARE READING
Thresheld
PoetryMy life is a series of thresholds that I overcome through poetry. Love, loss, pain, regret, humor, irony, word play, and even sarcasm are as much apart of my life as they are central to my poems here. I am Thresheld. UPDATE: It's been quite a few ye...
