I like that you mistook me for your boyfriend, Alexandra
Who can tell the difference, anyway?
In my overcoat, on any street corner, I am the (wo)man who loves
you, neutral colours only shading the sides of my face.
I speak in tongues and drawls, holding my Camel Light like
John Wayne, defending you from rabble-rousers in
a dimly-lighted saloon. I
smile when your eyes meet mine up in the rafters
and mine meet his across the balcony, nodding in acknowledgment
of a shared admiration
for punk rock
and you.
We unite in loving
you.
You ignite in loving
us.
SHUT UP THIS IS MOTHERFUCKING EXCELLENCE.
