she's driving

and the sunbeams reflect

off the panes of glass

and hit her like bricks

she understands god

she understands poor children

she understands why old men

run from them

she takes her eyes off the road

turns to me

listen, she says

this is not the way to happiness

if that's what we're longing for

but i hope it's not all we're longing for

i think we could be a little more interesting than that

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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