what my grocery store knows about me:
● 12 oz. of raspberries, once a week
● one carton of nonfat yogurt, greek
● kind clusters granola (“10g protein!”)
● honey, to complete my breakfast routine
● chicken, eggs (in no particular order)
● a pound of fruit —or half ―or quarter
● once a month, a jar of rao’s
● something salty, if time allows
● kodiak buttermilk pancake mix
● protein powder & a caffeine fix
● a twelve-pack of seltzer water
● …maybe another if the weather’s hotter
● three raw veggies, at least one green
● a pound of ground turkey, 93% lean
● a quart of milk, a carton of oats
● a last look over my grocery notes
bagged in a tote, slung over my shoulder;
when i’m back, i’ll be a week older.
but if the store watched over time,
it would see something grim between the lines:
a body growing ever thinner,
a self-imposed game without a winner.