i've been looking at real estate in france,
but i'd live in a fishbowl just to see the eiffel tower.
you've been leaving klondike wrappers in my car,
careless and unusual,
and too much like you.
i joked once that i wanted to vacation on the sun,
but you bought the tickets,
and the burns won't heal.
I've been thinking about bullet trains lately,
a high speed race to nowhere,
200 mph,
landscape like a monet.
motion sickness.
i wish i could hate you,
but i can't find it in me to care.
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