Strawberry milkshake two straws extra whipped cream

Tastes like I thought she might


Blonde First Love love

Between fractures in my fingernails,

Saved for later like mouth cavity moist taffies, pink or blue. Avoid consuming after bedtime.

Section 6 table 9 we’re center stage

Staring our sex into the celibacy of straights

With their some-kind-of



Can I write the next act like some-kind-of

Me, crawling,

Scaling sticky floor like curious child

Breaking fault lines into the table top

Arched back pressing our seal, our blood pact,

(“don’t tell anyone we will live forever”)

into ancient diner gum, pink and blue.

Crown of my head praying to

“Kate + Mike = 4ever”.

You opened yourself you just might taste like

Strawberry blonde milkshake

Extra whipped cream

Each and every one of my dreams

Living inside just a shaky sharpie heart on the bottom of diner booth table

4ever, 4ever.