all I know of our blood
comes from discarded cartons of food
only accessible on I-95.
the land you tracked over
has long since came
and gone
in the ‘welcome’ mat
you left out to manifest something
you have never felt.
your stance at the pews
only gives away the truth that faith floats
over even the largest of seas.
And in a decade old car,
I smell dealership.
maybe you didn’t want to taint your proof of efficiency —
proof of movement, upward.
All I know is the smell
of an hourly-cleaned kitchen
momentarily flavored with sweet vinegar
at every meal.
all I know of our blood
comes from discarded cartons of food
only accessible on I-95.
the land you tracked over
has long since came
and gone
in the ‘welcome’ mat
you left out to manifest something
you have never felt.
your stance at the pews
only gives away the truth that faith floats
over even the largest of seas.
And in a decade old car,
I smell dealership.
maybe you didn’t want to taint your proof of efficiency —
proof of movement, upward.
All I know is the smell
of an hourly-cleaned kitchen
momentarily flavored with sweet vinegar
at every meal.
