let’s pretend it’s not 10:21 at night and it hasn’t been dark out for four hours and you didn’t just pray to the street lights for the walls of this car to collapse into the walls of another
We are people now
let’s pretend it doesn’t matter that he reminds you of a man you saw on a bus who rambled on and on about what he’d do when she’d leave him and let’s pretend she never did
and he’s still writing love-poems about eating daffodils after they’ve been soaked in tea for twelve days while she’s sweeping the front
porch when the moon is out and they sleep in the same bed even when it’s not raining and she gets dizzy when he touches her but he touches her, when he doesn’t there’s fire and
they never have to eat and they’re never hungry and they’re never dying and we aren’t as beautiful now that we’re not pretending but still
We are beautiful and on a bus now and
it only takes twenty-seven minutes doing something we’re not supposed to do for you to forget about the man and only think of drowning somewhere that hasn’t been home for as long as we’ve been strangers"