I like to create toxic winds
to blow your at your scabbed kneecaps

and spit week-old spearmint gum
aiming for the shine of your work shoes.

It must be cruel to be me,
your arrogant smile hurdles over

the human sized mouse trap
a naive and sweet girl left on your driver’s seat.

Don’t worry, you tender, soft darling
of Satan’s bloodiest creation

I’ll be every cosmic speck
till someone sinks you back to earth.