we've already explored
every last inch
of the mall in town.

the one that isn't ******,
at least.

we've driven to every last store
and into the city
and into the middle of nowhere,
windows down,
radio blaring,
daylight escaping.

the grey stones,
the angels on columns
marking the presence of a child
or the presence of
a
scream
grow in size before me

you brought me here
to explore
the grounds

but really all i want
is a cigarette
and a glass bottle
of pepsi

but i don't smoke

so what is the point?

unease suffocates me
like a wire
about my neck

i don't even think
my blood
is blood
anymore.

scraped palms
and ****** knees
seep venom
and
lemon juice
and
peppermint

ice cubes
and
candy striped
lipstick
do
not
compel
me.

if i curl up
next to this
slab of marble,
and just sleep,
will
i
feel
like
i
am
home?

but i do not.

it is almost
the time
the gates
close.

so
we
leave,

flower
petals
and
oranges
trailing
be­hind
us.