There is a striped shirt, among the striped blankets,
and striped car
It’s a dirty t-shirt but has a few days left in it

Listening to a song
that brings back the driving through countrysides alone,
Could have been yesterday, or tomorrow
Things don’t change like they should

I just found a coffee stain, probably from my flight here
It’s ok to sink into the chair while holding palo santo in hand
Scent will take or cover the sad girl
longing for something