I See Through You

I want a corndog.
And I want to dip it in ketchup.
Only to regret it an our later.
When sweating in a Toyota. 

I want to tell the world. 
About love.
And how sometimes.
It's not all it's cracked up to be. 

I am Apis.
The bull god. 
A deity of my own making.
Just driving somewhere south. 

I pull off.
At a gun place rest stop. 
And scribble our names.
For transient truckers to ponder. 

It's been two years.
I am still dumb. 
Just different. 
Focused, more.