She’s standing in a field in Tuscany

She’s standing in a field in Tuscany,

wearing linen that probably costs

more than my car insurance.

The sun is doing something illegal

to the highlights in her hair,

making her look like a person

who has never heard the sound

of a radiator knocking in the dark.

I’m standing over the stainless steel sink,

shaking the crumbs of a protein bar

off my shirt.

It tastes like chalk and vitamins.

I want to be a better person,

someone who likes to see a friend

find a piece of the world that isn't broken.

But the jealousy is a small, sharp bone

stuck in my throat.

I close the app and wash the crumbs

down the drain

with a splash of lukewarm water.