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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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