Laura

Tiny Cobain, ubiquitous wielder of destinies –
Who drove the bus straight into my dreams
I think of this day often:

The calculator in-mouth versus
Love, valour, some heartily earnest  yearning.

Tiny Cobain, shapeshifting songstress –
Who drove the bus straight over my notions
I think of this day often:

The toothpick was minty,
Thick with seafoam and purple potatoes
Sundressed so beautifully in the moonlight
Plunged together in structure, below and gnashing.
Sword stuck in, then pulling from Rachael.

We emerged from the darkest weirdest chapter
Beautiful, remarkable
With Jade, with Buddha and Nickel:

Inevitable Strangers.
Shining like beacons.
Pregnant and Sunny.

Awkwardly avoiding eye contact in Starbucks.

There are no bad trips.
Only so many feel it all Jiving around.

For my man, my dog, my family:

I love you, always.
I live my dreams.
I leave the rest behind.

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