Come around

You're around a pillow, your feet swamped by powercords on the hardwood floor
You raise your eyebrows and over your Pepsi next to the plastic
Christmas trainset with that brown bear as the conductor
waving his glittery whistle towards the room
I catch your eye and you repeat the news
So Diane Sawyer says that dinosaurs had wishbones
Do you believe it
Before I can reply my uncle barks "those reporters spew out shit-storms that amount to nothing"
You push off the floor
and we head for your car
you toss a crushed taco bell cup off my seat
Sorry for the mess
You mumble as the car spits to life
I tie my tongue into cherry stems and
try not to feel sad for your apology.