She solves puzzles all day
thirteen across: four letter word
for dying; one down:
phrase for love without limits
she wracks her brain
squeezes her eyes tight
she can taste the right word, ripe
ready to drop into her consciousness
under the table a bedazzled
dog rests his head on her naked toes
she’d wear slippers if she could find
the right pair—comfortable, not too soft
Ah! eleven across: “diced dish”
this has got to be “hash,” she thinks
but it’s one letter short:
the final insult
to another unsolved day