I hate that you were there in the first place.
You told me that you had done this before.
So we ran around, free as summer, pilfering candy
off their busy shelves, throwing it at each other,
into our mouths, into each others mouths, into the air.
Left behind a chrome trail of sweets, every hall we went down.
We kept at it for hours! Licorice whips, chocolate explosions!
When we were done I thought we would leave right away,
But you needed a carton of milk, which I offered to buy.
"Just this," I said to the gruff-looking registerman.
"Like hell just this." I knew this would not go over well.
I handed him a 5, and feeling guilty, I placed all of my change
in the tip jar and sheepishly walked away.
"That was mighty nice of you, a super nice guy."
I was nearly out the door but you for some reason
hadn't moved from where you were just before.
And with only you in his presence, he clicked his tongue,
"Hey baby, how's about ya come over here?"
And that was enough, I gave him the longest middle finger
he's ever fucking seen which shut him up while even
mountains shuttered. So then we left.
He must have been as jealous as I was, or maybe he is me,
because police were called and coming for us before we
could even get to the Santa Fe, parked in cold darkness.
I told you to "Hide, get out of here,"
I'll give them a chase that they will never find their way
back from. But you wouldn't listen to me.
"Should I get in? Should I get in?" You kept asking,
until the black-uniformed boys had us surrounded.
Then you calmly walked around and got in the car.
Then everything went away, and it was just you and I,
driving up the chrome, winding highway on the mountain,
while dolphins danced in the skies, sweeter than candy.
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