Daily Rituals

i vomit three times

a day. clockwork. i hug

the bowl & buck my guts,

hurling cloudy mucus & spit

into blank water. clockwork.

where’s the flavor in that?

i want strawberry chunks,

star-studded saliva, a frothy

smoothie so pink, they beg

for its rare, gentle beauty,

they drown in its rare,

gentle beauty, spun from blades

that circle like sharks