I’m M. She’s 3 three characters
north from me. Hopefully 1 day we
Share shelf. But I’m dreaming,
I know. Into roads, both throw poems.
Stop, reattach, latch. Hoping a couple
Diaries match. Already convinced.
Maybe I should be to bed belted.
Tighter. This would be the morning
talking. Its hours. Its bluntness.
Later, the wine sings my mood, floral
Intent. Scheduling Self for ringing–
Register-like. Over tab limit.
But I’ll keep going. How many more
Sentences’ll fit? Changing the way I
Skate the 8.