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  • ice cream drips

    onto your fingers

    as your hand clutches the steering wheel

    while the classic rock station

    blares out the sounds of the city.

    its 9pm on a weekday

    and all you can hear

    are the suburban moms quiet sobs

    as their teenagers pretend to be mean

    and their husbands sit in the driveway

    in their cars, alone, because they can’t handle

    that 10 ft walk up the driveway

    into the jungle they’ve created.

    there’s the teenage girl

    about 15, I’d say, who cares more

    about what that boy in her math class

    thinks of her

    than who she is in the world.

    its sad really

    but it doesn’t matter

    because your ice cream is still dripping

    inviting you to take your hands off the wheel

    for a split second

    and lick up the sprinkles and vanilla sugar.

    exhilirating, that feeling of being alone.

    and it’s that step out of the front seat

    after you park in front of your house

    the step into the eerily quiet street

    that you look up into the sky.

    “it’s April” you think

    “it’s clear enough to see the stars.

    finally.”

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