Curled up next to an empty bowl
with a book and a blanket.
Window cracked open...

Is the first time I was jealous
of Chef Boyardee.
It had nothing to do with cooking.
She was wearing a t-shirt
almost too small
faded yellow from coin laundry
and discount detergent.
Boy shorts.
Warm ravioli with meat sauce
in her mouth.
I used to make her smile like that.