choking on cherry stems

America's sweetheart,

French kisses that taste like pop rocks,

The aroma of a distant barbecue trapped in her hair,

Fireworks reflecting in dilated pupils—

Is this the American Dream?

Momma said it should stick like skin,

Bleed red, white, and blue,

But that green light beckons me when I’m with you.

Red lipstick stains on my cheeks,

A cherry stem tied around my heart,

Beating like the pounding of bare feet on cracked pavement,

The national anthem echoes,

But I wipe you off my lips—

Devouring me like a contest no one wins