You were
My own
Until I rudely
Cut you off with my roommate’s kitchen scissors.
You had lingered
Around my crotch
Since late fall
And you resembled a sleeping otter
With a bad case of frizz.
I dismembered you
But, purely by chance
Noticed how springy, even spongy
Was your texture on my chin.
I even pretended I was Lenin, Lincoln,
And several other bearded historical figures
Until I came to my senses and abruptly swept you into my trash.
Parts of you,
Fell into my empty cereal bowl
I am sure that I will encounter you tomorrow.
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