On Repeat

Camouflage on paintings.

They make you get up and dance.

You laughing in imaginary jokes.

Somewhere, she's having a sly indoor smoke like a Post-mix lemonade.

You sit and swam out of your phantasm.

Been figured out what's exactly you need.

But somehow bad timing is the only friend you have.

You completely occupied.

All night long.

The questionnaire never changes.