Noah hangs Barbie legs from his rearview mirror
bottle caps on the ceiling of his room
above an apothecary's chest
and a bed of feathers.
Noah takes pictures of prostitutes
running in red
and the print of my spine against my back
and my feet when they are hurting.
Noah takes me to the city
he makes me modern in glass elevators
he frees me of religion
and we listen to a symphony of only
Noah, I am hmmmming to you from this porch swing
you have married the student body president
you have forsaken aching and art
you are a happy traitor.