i took a pill that made my pupils big
and crawled into your lap in the back of your car
sitting in candy wrappers and bits of glass
from your broken window

once you rolled me a blunt in your drivers seat
we smoked and i curled against you
with an open sun roof and a hand up my skirt

with a track from your phone,
missing missy, penning lines
you speak words from memory
and recall rhymes to me
after a cigarette in your car