delicate Dennis didn’t want his coffee cake

well wishes fell to the floor

your melody was washed ashore

tell the tale of the time you knew which way to go

i’m stumbling

it was morning bright captured sights nothing was going to give in to the thought that saturday’s dresses fell to the ground pounding in my memory the resonant tune of teenage times trapped in trees with my poetry lining the leaves as single words i said would freeze the ones who thought i was the sleeve, everything going up. it’s tuesday now and you’re still around grasping for the potion to unwind seashore saturday’s pouncing from room to room carrying my casket, an unknown tomb, no one knew where to put me so i jumped out and ran away wanting desperately to hold you again skin to skin stunned within fresh to the feeling of penny arcade attempts pulling strings and pushing buttons will you touch me now? it’s sunday and we went back upstairs conversations killed by you thinking i care. the door? where is it? you puppet space master without financial ties to help me get to the next flight. future founders will wonder what i did to you when history books are dropped off on their porch hoping someone will take them in, we recycled ours three days ago. just stop with the street fair get together and elbow rubbing events. i see you in your bath robe, time is making a better role for others. you’re stuck.