Thanks, Elliot.
Your name is not Elliot.

But I have to give you a new name to move on.

I see a left collarbone
on a complicated Pisces
who collects records.

I see the condensation
on a can of club soda
sitting in the garage.

I see smells
as memory,
reminding me to sing the time being.

a couple quarter hours
until we implode into music.

Dream of joy with me,
while ordering books
from Amazon drones.

So much can happen here;
walking around waiting
to get my feelings hurt.

Time to let go.

There are two ways to make a transition
on a mixtape: smooth or jarring.