Groans From Grown Men

Something about making decisions. Choosing between cheeses and long strips of meat. My mouth isn't always the perpetrator. I cover my hand with it, hiding like the lovers who close their eyes, not wanting to see or maybe be seen. I miss my thinking buddy but not the days of waking in a jolt at the alarm screams and insults. The humidifier used to muffle groans from the grown men downstairs. Wait until you see their axles and his claymore! Watch me eat this pepper and salt this tomato. Tell me if it looks enticing. If it does and you object, I will alter my behavior to your liking.