Biscuits

spilled coffee on my Kyries;
didn't sweat it. 

burnt the biscuits,
but didn't care.

walked on a broken stem,
tore a hem,
but still my morning shines.

Erin calls me,
and I can taste her
red lips. 

reassurance is a reward
on a dew-wet Sunday morning
after basketball,
before brunch. 

if it isn't one thing,
it's another.