did you Know
a chinatown bus could be Beautiful?
It helps that a pretty girl my age
talked to me and smiled, but
before eight the sun's last
poured through the front windows
like Golden Delicious juices
and stuck to the armrests,
soft rims for the chairs.
For a second there it smelled
of rainshowers in late August
or sweat on blue collars.
The light stuck to her neck too and
I thought to take a bite.
What's your name, girl I want to bite?
Eve. She said.
~contributer
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