poorly marked out, only a daub of paint
here there here where they’re there
I have left my imprint printed in printed on your chest
how foolish to love and love and to care
here there here where they’re there
pat me on my arm, I can tell this is making you uncomfortable
all the unformed sloppy parts of me
why would you cry for me?
I haven’t meant to burn right through
how crazy to imagine that I ever even never could
why would you cry for me?
heave through my lungs, I can tell this is making you uncomfortable
muffled through the speaker stack
we don’t dance we don’t wanna
I have got my face on my face face on that doesn’t see you
how strange to thresh and never movewe don’t dance we don’t wanna
sit on my lap, I can tell this is making you uncomfortable
eleanor j jackson 