tonight, my yawns are powerful forces; it is only midnight.
a yawn's main purpose is to cool off the brain; a thought fan. i am untangling a vast web of literature that will not untangle for probably the rest of my life. surely not in one month, the end of the semester.

my bathrobe smells minty, a sure sign that someone grabbed whatever terrycloth was hanging behind the bathroom door, and, pausing for only a moment to reflect on the deviance of their act and simultaneously regarding it as necessary action, swiped their toothpaste rimmed mouth on it.