Leftover Constellations

Found my grocery list in a paper bag from June
Coffee stain, crossed out plums, tiny planets in the margins
You always doodled rings around the boring things
Don't forget the milk and three exclamation marks
We're left over constellations drawn on receipts and reservations
Little maps of almost everything glowing in the junk drawer dim
We're left over constellations spelling jokes and broken equations
Every scribble, every line keeps your orbit close to mine
Ticket stubs in a jar, faded names of tiny towns
You rotate this road again with a crooked arrow down