is what my astrology app tells me so I fall in love with coffee and a pumpkin muffin, I fall in love with a black cat and the fog covering blue sky,  the evergreens, the world appearing like a cotton ball stretched in front of me. Then I think—this is too easy, this falling in love. So, I return to my app—Do: secret messages, chokers, power ballads. Maybe this is code for poetry. Maybe a poem is a secret message,  a choker,  a power ballad?  The app tells me: Don’t: temptation, drooling, bedpost notches, which feels less fun minus the drooling. I’m a yes-temptation! gal especially if I’m falling in love for and with the universe, which is all I’ve been working on this morning. Like how I love you Reader, I love you poem, I love you strange  little white aphid  that jumped off  the sunflowers I picked with a poet on a day I didn’t check my apps and just lived.