sh*ttier

2

                                                   t e  b u s q u e ,  t e  b u s q u e
                                                                  Y o l a n d a

pillowcase

i like
you
the way i like
blueberry pancakes
with whipped cream, and
sleeping in on
monday mornings, and
people
that are too good
and too kind
to leave

it is the kind of feeling
you can fall into
sleep-soft sirensong
pillowing
around bone-tired limbs;
exhaustion
an old riddle
unraveling from
locomotive lips

you make
some fuzzy tv-static promise
about breakfast tomorrow
at the diner across the street
yanno, the one you’ve
always wanted to
go to, with the
double-chocolate
sundaes
and fake leather seats,
and drop
your forehead
to my shoulder

i let the radio silence
make a second home in my bones