in (stuckinthe) reverse
(his mind is like

This morning the lilac trees lining the town center were in full bloom—
silent over the sidewalk
silent like the girls with rounded shoulders that shuffle past them
and too accessible like the boys that whisper sugar
but lack the ardent bit of anything)
and you're trippingyou'restumblingyou'restuttering you're
falling over yourself to be delicate,
and the music is playing on the top of your lungs
and his mind is like—

This morning the air was hard to breathe
it's recycled this town needs to be recycled:
this morning the horizon seemed despairingly ready to br
eak away and

the only thing on any of our minds today is exponential decay.