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When I look at her
I have no idea why I try so hard
to succeed at other things

She’s front row tickets to everything
She’s Novelle Vague
and Jarmush dialogue
She’s kisses in the middle of the lane
and well lit billboards
of Dior haute couture
She’s She’s All That
without the parts where you can see
through the acting

I’m Netflix and chill
and somehow she hasn’t noticed yet.

depressed ballons
full of bad breath
can’t push against
the ceiling
on your big day
you listen to your uncle talk about his RV
followed by something racist
as you blow out
the candles
for hot luck
next year