keep mocking me
like the spare roof of a sky
and my caramel shirt
sign here
under the grassy poems
(she has a daughter who is a mystic)
then let’s sit in the parking lot
I
took a nap in the parking lot and then I wrote a poem about sitting in the parking lot
and now I have better credit
how about that
our love song has no possession
because you decided no apostrophes for life
