eyerolls.

and when i jolt awake in class mumbling in tongues, when i wake from sticky fragments of ludicrous dreams to find myself shivering on a hard wooden chair staring at slides, and outside it's snowing but blue-skied and those staircases are all imploding, and i'm wondering why everyone looks like ghosts with webbed hands and teeth to spare. almost everyone. let's all dress like sailors and sing chanties to these vaulted halls while those young kids drink toasts to our irreverent twisting limbs. you took off yr glasses and i thought you were something new. (but you can't fool me with that combover). shriveled insect guts and the generational divide. transposed sunny days. this codeine keeps me up and this caffeine gets me down, cotton balls and numb fingers and graffiti on the walls. we want to see stars together, fake rippling stars, but my one condition is you must clear me a path through that ketchup delusion we pretend we can't see. (i keep studying my toes, and yr wrapped in a shower curtain whispering lines of whitman to yr windowsills) time to decode, dear, time to unload.