The Inner Beauty of Ambiguity

the sting of vodka and old wooden stools
here’s where they crown the most beautiful of fools
solidifying my desire to be more than a view
and you’re upfront that you love that I’m smarter than you

and to anyone, I’ve never been so translucent
in minutes, I misplace my friends and my prudence
because to you my demeanor isn’t cold
it’s a mystery you can’t wait to unfold

so you hang my deficiencies up there with the neon signs
somehow convincing me to wear them with pride
in that college bar, my memory of you will always reside

even as practically strangers
I woke up gleaming and hungover