“Let’s not go Home”

Passed out in a parking lot 
                                                                                                                                      Beneath the blanket,
                                high on the enjambment of your last poem
                               having reread the last of your pot
Sitting in the back of my Honda Civic and wondering why we don't move to your Subaru
 
                                too lazy to open up the sunroof cause we can't quite remove
 the shiver of our words from each others lips with another kiss
Beckoning each other with just a few more stares
                                                                      from across a dimly lit
                                                                                                   dorm room
Knowing we'll mix better
         than any mess of drugs two poets could drown themselves in
Seal my lips tight and tell me you'll               see me soon
 
                                                keeping it secret that we're like this sober.