I left my smoky town on an escalator highway circling around the greenish needs of every person who’d ever left
Held up by the crispy pieces of what we call good intentions
that drifted its way back
Pretty moths hid in travel clothes and nibbled their concerns at me
I did not attend.
Too many analogies and metaphors between us,
Can’t be too sure–
Methinks wearing purple nail polish and red lipstick is archaic but I’ll wash the dishes
This whole time you were sitting on a pea,
A pea
Oh, I’m sleepy


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