Cocaine & Code Names

I feel like 90s again

All tanned skin and a strawberry vest

Made of blue jeans

Uncertainty is my cleverest trip

The one wrought with signs

And cigarette butts across America

This journey is pointing to itself

A fallen fruit along a sidewalk

In Hollywood and I am saying

Pick me up in your shiny car

A tapestry of the desert is your mouth

I am the cavern roof and you

My chosen womb walls

This is a helicopter hovering overhead

Searching the ground for dollar signs

And the citizens are screaming

For ascension

I am your red jumper

Wishing I’d be stolen away

My passport is packed

I am a broad stroke

Prepared for nothing and ready, ready

For everything, on a cool day in LA

I am right here still standing

A network body in hoop earrings

Waiting on the sidewalk beside a red car

I am the dirtiest thing

My breasts are green

The sunset in my eyes is orange

I am not small in any ways

But there is a subtle ness to my spirit

An eastern sunrise in my smile

I am a bottle on the nightstand

A Leanard Cohen song stuck between my lips