Sunday Brunch

I could talk to you for hours, across the table,
contemplating effects of Plath on the psyche,
hit tennis balls to the beat of your metaphor
laughing at my flowery adjectives
and my mad, mad love for alliteration.

Let’s collaborate crumbs on a paper napkin-

I’ll have iced coffee and you, juice
with a side of poetry, well done, please.

~