There lay a cigarette graveyard in the dash
Gas chugged through to the exhaust
Smoke in and out of lungs digging fewer graves
While I pester the plastic like uneasy dirt that won't budge
Brown worn leather loafers clogged up to some means
Then parted like a big brown crinkled sea
Imagined worlds through various lenses under dappled light
Through them, swimming two arms of a weak 10-year-old boy
I saw her, standing with faded blue jeans, and a cup of cappuccino
A sloth of froth, down the front
Candy mountains and lemonade seas, coal piles, and freezing veins
Chased through fields of snow, and piles of pleasurable mangled wounds
They leaked onto the floorboards upsetting the quiet with a racket
The clang of the only pen heard dropping
Cashmere veneer dermis coat, I put both hands on it
While my mother told me to slow down before
Cobbling me into gray before I've even hit 20
Strings of ashes on stinging skin, defiling a sturdy color
A plastic hole gouged out but still perfect like skin always was