there is no word yet
just dogs barking at the sirens
their cold noses and the spring vines
growing green, growing distant in the sunlight
passing mistakes and neighbors' yards
I drop a lit cigarette on the ground
backtracking, curious
down the old road, tell me that you wanna go
tell me that you wanna go
there is no word yet
just a pause in the center target
eating pizza on the city street
keeping up with the high risers
the wind blows up a spray
dead grass and trash moves underneath our knees
we get lost, we have to stay
on the old road, tell me that you wanna go
tell me that you wanna go
there is a pot on the top shelf
the little flowers in the basket they all fall down
they seep onto the bedroom floor
green vines start creeping up your bedroom door
I bring chocolates and iced tea
a radio, blankets for sleeping
we trim them and we watch them grow
down the old road, tell me that you wanna go
tell me that you wanna go
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