the only ones

i want to die in the same place i was born
miles from nowhere
i used to reach for the stars
but now i’ve reformed

ok, so now i’m secretly hoping that i run into the poet again. the identical twin poet. we had such a hilarious talk on saturday night and then i ran into him at the coffee shop and i apologized for using his icy cold and then we talked about eating all his granola and how he read a poem about fisting and he said, “if you ever want to get coffee or ice cream…,” to which i nervously said, “i don’t really eat ice cream,” by which i meant, i don’t really eat ice cream (in public) (or freezer-burned bluebell ice cream from this coffee shop), but i would LOVE to have coffee.