a rumor mill,
and a grapefruit stomach bump
packaged her plans in boxes,
toasting over uncontrollable tears,
masquerading as sorrow.
If it not for the winery and a mistake,
she’d be headed to college.
The synergy illuminated the fork in the road.
To the left is to doubt;
to the right is a sunset strip on Santa Monica.
The right way to go, I don’t know.