one sugar cube
my nostalgic side was like can we go back to the days of landlines
But you treat me like a collapsible chair! A chair you slump onto when there's no softer one.
Drained wind flattens hearts of gold-wrapped candy
A sparrow attracted by the rice is singing a song of love
I disappointed Michael J. Fox last night in a dream because I don’t miss Spin City more.
It's raining over the city / I only hear the noise of the refrigerator.
I found you in songs back then and still hear their whispers now.
Imagine a shower That also quenches your thirst.
I’m alone on that quiet stretch of road today / hitting pause on a Julien Baker song
You seem like a person and not a robot (in a good way).
At the Frick, the Fragonards and silence / Offer at least a modicum of solace.
On a balcony high above the glittering lights of the City, drinking a martini and flirting with the cool kids
Where eyelids are orange peels / And the sunlight throws / fuzzy, fizzy orange and yellow starbursts
You peel and pull until the skin is as raw and as red
He licks sweet strawberry scorn / Fresh from a hand-blown faucet
Picking at purple butterfly pea flowers / as they dance just beneath the boiling point
The early bird drinks coffee from its fountain
I awake to ocean & dunes / To uppity cerulean
Her front door has no screen
The neighborhood is empty. The fireflies are dead.