A landfill

A Mindful

A solitary carpool,

 

I drive on edges of quartz,

I hear our solitary march,

To destinations uncovered

To futures falsely discovered,

 

But halt.

 

What do I see behind my malt?

In a spastic little quirk

She makes a plastic looking smirk

O, lover momentary,

Our awkwardness we shyly marry.