my jeans on the floor,
belt still in the loops.
the foul warning of the moon
leaves me be with
pizza and a laugh.
you should watch the other
'A Star is Born' flicks
and go to sleep early,
just so you know I am sorry
about the lemons and the condoms.
centrifuge and license plates,
a seagull named Iveaigh,
and pieces of me,
providing pieces of you,
so peace out.
where do we go
when we go
and where do we return
when we come back,
for fireplaces or films?
questions make us playgrounds
for the lights of the dancing night,
therefore we clap in keyboards
and continue with erasable errors
only known to us in November.