pedanticpersiflage:

You really need at least three for pancakes
so that you may take turns                      
getting lost
in the combination of blueberry, syrup, and cool whip
while the other two
carry on conversation

about the day ahead,
about the morning newspaper’s cover story,
about last night’s game,
about how the coffee at this shithole just isn’t strong enough.

You’ll make plans
and convince yourself to stay awake
even though your full stomachs
beckon you like lovers
back to bed,

and you’ll drink another cup
of weak drip
light brown bitter water
to wash away
the sweetness

before going separate directions and remaining one like a trinity in memory,
before your plans become procrastinated empty declarations,
before you were awake enough to remember three’s a crowd,
before work days lead to happy hours that lead to two a.m.’s,

which lead to hung over breakfasts,
which are never tolerable
as a couple.

You really need at least three for pancakes.