A/N: I borrowed Rejection Notice's favorite word.

He wants to be one of those
human beings with disposable worlds,
dancing so quiet it’s like an afterthought
almost, coveting her constant semiautomatic atmosphere
and remembering that sea salt can save an existence,

when the ocean is pushing up against the high way and it’s
guard rails closed eyes and her face screaming trembling
in the
back of
his mind—

my god. Shuddering on the tip of her tongue—
he wants to be one of those
solutions for dissatisfaction.