oh honey you think any of our time is dead

sweet summer child

waiting isn’t a snuffing game

for starters you’re not a fist-thing

clenched around a wrinkled fiver

that a boy-man gave to you at camp

right after you unwittingly told a lesbian you loved her

she laughed and laughed and laughed

her guffawing boinging across the marin headlands

and said I’m not really into boys

you were 10 and didn’t know she was queer till 12

that fiver sat in your money-pail before you purchased

sugar-free kiwi soda pop 

cus it sated a social fetish

then you got older

13 let’s say

and met her again on the gram

y’all talked about gay things

you’re queer too btw

and caught up on happenings

hey dude whatcha think of these chords

it’s great! love the rhythm a bit sad though

what’re your thoughts on this fanart

hell yeah that’s dope af

and it was nice for awhile

until you thought she died for a year and turned up in a community home

put a real damper on conversations

now you wait for the next person to quenched

and thrown in the ashpit alongside letters

you wrote during weeping fits

those seething writhes goaded by that timestamp 

of your last healthy message with her

3 pm the devil’s hour

honey lemme tell you that’s no way to live your life

death and memory-death and friendship-death are 

nothing but meaningless increments

in a jumbo algorithm that doesn’t make a lick of sense

nothing truly gets snuffed

it’s all just a waiting game towards infinity

and that’s a foxy thing