@
the
kid’s place
we, in the
middle of the fight, went
berserk. We lost it, we lossed the chip
it was  little bitter, unable to shine in skunk-eyes so we slept there
And you know what? i remembered the sights we used to make, back when it was easy to be too slow
before seventh grade shambles, and the cold cup you sold make a buck
against your shallow skin. as I lay, unknowing
of your penny tears, and
unavailable for comment
on my
virginity.
well.