The loser does the dishes for seventeen people, and it has never been me

I sell flowers at 4am and kick things at 6, and only one of those is gentle

I count everything in eights, including how long you take to answer

My name is in tiny print on three songs you've sung in the car

I teach sailing for a living and lose to a retired tugboat captain every Wednesday

I have two minutes, which is why you're about to get six texts

I paint nails in a salon the size of a closet in Copacabana, and I know what everyone on this street did last summer

I walk runways for a living and trip on my own stairs for free