Bell Pepper Seeds

I hide between the spaces in words -
where Instant-strangers
bend backs to message me
like bed springs on Queen, daring lovers
to twist my pitchfork tongue to
converse with bell pepper words.

These strangers flirt with tones ticking
louder than wall-clocks’ lonesome leg cracks.
And I crack pepper stems into conversations
with sleazy men who only respond to my sarcasm -
it flows naturally as punctuation pellets.
They just love the smooth talk -
where my fingers click like tongues and
emojis reflect emotions of palms.

See-
Strangers respond behind pixels.
My New York Times Best-Selling sentences request
strangers meet me in public,
but they cringe over coffee date suggestions.
They’re afraid to commit words to conversation
so, I spit seeds on flakes that move their mouse hand
to top left X.

I only look for men
who don’t spit bell pepper seeds onto my sheets.
I hide the vegetable stems between each bedspring -
still sleeping a full 9 hours.