Whenever Ink is Needed
My two cents.

I placed my
two cents on
your coffee table—

right beside the
empty tea cup
and yetersday’s
subscription.

You got mad
at me that morning;
it must be that time
again when sentiments
were amounted to
spare change.

Fridge magnets spelled
good days— quite
ironic to know when
the sunrise was not
free to bask in
its gloriousness.

Your tea has grown
cold.

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