Ravenous, he mows the lawn of her salad; despoils her delicate capers. Olive oil coats his lips.
Her thumbnail traces the edge of the bowl.
D'ya have to be so rough?
He stares at her across a field of greens, fork dripping with readiness:
If you don't like my rough hunger
go feed somebody else.
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sometimes a short phrase will get stuck in my mind and won't leave till I give it a story to be in. Here's one of those. Is "D'ya" one word, or two?