i take my advil like vitamins, next to the fruit juice. two in the morning and one before sleep. the night before last, the yellow street lamps played my shadow on the pavement, tall, and hour glass, ready to shatter, slow sand passing through. i watched it crawl up the neighbor's driveway, make a phone call, shoulders heaving. no direction, just a lot of time. by morning it was behind me, the sun making sweet beads of perspiration under my bangs, on my temples, where the ache is.

there is a bruised peach in the fruit bowl. i wonder if i should eat it, let its juice make my lips sticky and sweet. i ignore it, it is too battered for consumption.