the way the cookie crumbles

I asked her if I might crumble her cookie,
and she laughed, that nervous laugh,
because I was crossing a boundary;

I've always been a ruthless trespasser,
tried to live like I am my own master,
which usually led to walking down the road
just a little bit faster;

and she said that the rules said that
I had to stay on my side,
and I said that sounded like nobody
leaves satisfied,
and nervous laughter was how she replied;

and I told her I didn't see any boundary:
all I could see was her cookie and me.

January 21, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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