like playing phone tag
on an open highway
waiting for cars to be her backdoor.
when does running become impossible
and when will she stop getting motion sickness
from his words?
spoon fed tasteful senselessness
such that it eventually goes down.
he is not for her
he does not deserve her minutes
yet like a dog with a stick she returns
until she is drunk on dizziness.
he cuts corners
into paper snow flakes that look like a perfect storm.
in silence she has always known he will never love her the way she wants him to.