i am a lover
of undeniably plain things
the cinnamon butter between
rolls at the steakhouse
the way the streetlight shine
from the top of the bridge
overlooking our hometown
dancing to some nights
drunk in the sunlight
in the middle of day
i still don't hang vines
on my windowsill anymore
and my walls seem bare
and im sorry
but i love the way my
scraped knee feels on
the carpet we were given
and i'm in love with the
screaming of the motorcycles
at 6 am in the morning
i am a lover of
green plants and cookie dough butter
at three in the morning
i am a lover
of the undeniably plain