ON THE ROAD TO SAN FRANCISCO:
The wasabi hit was perfect, how did you know I love it?
Flower fan dancing in the bowl of a silver spoon, pure rhythm,
free-forming circles on the ceiling. Needles on roofs repel
Let’s run away together for the weekend, pictures of cars on
our backs. Let’s get the full ride, not down, not out. Hunting
a chocolate rush, seen, unseen, known, unknown, keep moving on,
don’t tell anyone our names.