You love to paint.

You teeter on the line between

Hedonism and Asceticism

with every move of your fingers

each shape you make in the clay

Snap, clap, bite

Maybe you'll wake up

to a small mercy raining heavily

on your roof

or maybe you won't.

I go biking near dusk, when the sun skims the surface of the horizon and the owls begin to hoot and the bugs begin to bite.