think my brain is sun-bleached
i haven't been outside in days
it's just sweat
just sweat
swimming in rivulets
down what's left
of my eyebrows
down what i haven't
pulled out yet

when i hold your hand
it feels like violets
like tasting strawberries
but i only feel it in my mind
it's only there projected on tile floors
on the cash register

if i was out of my head
i wouldn't have to just pretend
i could kiss you
but you're the only good thing
living in there.