hwithumalut

Streets lights dreaming in terms of fire Cell phone’s sweet songs singing higher Lanes of suburban lawns of the same style Childhood friendships in memories long gone Teenagers riding sleepily along the yellow. Friends not seatbelted that need no weak talk like “hello” Bottles sit in both cars running both ways Glass and metal is in minds endless haze Whining lights of red and then blue The world must be repatched with glue