An old man sits smoking on the bench, close to me.
He gauges exactly when the smoke hits me in the face;
my eyebrows raise. He watches them.
My sandwich suddenly tastes richer.
oomami I think they call it.
I quit smoking a couple weeks ago...

I'm sure he has a good looking son he never talks to.
(I have skirts I never wear.)
I'm trying to settle down these days.
walk on the sidewalks more.
I've only been drinking half my cup of coffee, Aimee.
And wearing Bandaids on my cuts.

He has a good looking son I've talked to.
A lot.
I think he'll die if he keeps smoking like that.
We all die, and some of us just love the poison in between,
Aimee; I think.
Have a word with me, will you-
in between poisons.

doyouhearmewhenIscreamnexttoyou
the first night I collided with you
on a Sunday
left first then right you gotta whisper to me
"stop crying, stop crying, damn it"
but do you see who this is?
the space between our arms
and no one's ever seen the skin on my back
least of all you
no one's ever seen my bad side
least of all you when you are such good friends with God.

what do you say to a girl
what do you say to yourself when you question your own mind
when you don't know all the answers
but you know the hairs on your arm and the scar on your back
and you know its all gotta mean something-
shouldn't it?
doesn't it?
what then, God. what then am I supposed to say.

i love you so much
honey - pretty boy
and maybe you'll just love me too if
I get my nose sawed down
or if I stop drinkin' coffee
or maybe if you go blind and you like the sounda my voice
so quietly leaking into space

choosin' sides
I don't contemplate life with you
I contemplate the six strangling seconds it takes you
to go from
you like me
ya hate me
you quietly leak into the space of thinking you're a kinda good guy.

this can of coffee was 100% fresh
guaranteed
two years ago.
this American life on the radio reminds me of the paint and the old times before I met you
it was easier in those days
to just turn it off.