There is a truth that is loud
And quacks
But I am a thoughtful girl stranded
In a dirty truck
Drawing ovals with my mind
The lake is near
And flora
I am decadent, I am
Childish with my hands placed in my lap
And I am thinking ….. with my hands
But I am growing old
Under this imaginary eye mask
I am good, good …. I am also
Ummmmm
Like a great historical mist
Rising out of a gold box
And I like it here
In my dirty truck
Weeping for your love