Surrounded by burnt orange
and bright red foliage
that inspires the colors
found in your Crayola box,
she experienced a series
of sudden jabs,
twists, turns,
a confusing set of pretend
rules roughly based in a mixture of
childhood and adulthood,
love, but also false faces,
a return to a happiness she once knew
and au meme temps a desperation
to extract herself from
the emotional melee mediated by
the person in her head screaming
that she shouldn't have looked back;
Cups on replay
(two bottles of whiskey for the way /
you're gonna miss me when I'm gone),
a breath taken behind pink glasses that
cannot possibly make
ce moment en son vie plus rose.
Where is the beginning and where is the end
of the winding road that leads to
hot chocolate and pauses in a fake cab ride?
