Renewing

Are you sure? First screen.

Woman on a cliff, arms wide.

Fourteen ninety-nine a month for something clean

I touched twice and let slide.

Second screen: half off. Third: a sunset.

Fourth: why are you leaving?

I picked "other." Left the field unset.

Eight months of calm I was never receiving.

Overdrafted by eleven bucks.

The app still sends its weekly line—

you deserve peace—like a string of bad luck

that sounds, every time, benign.