even
words are gummy, chewable, or unchaste
true
identity or truer masks but I never met you
it
was noir to me or subterranean or it stood up &
defended
something sleet—the cold warmth
those
feelings from Brail surrounded by darkness
never
that caliber or a man by chains too allergenic too much blizzard at the wildest
friend-break
we
would wonder over tablecloths our chin-ups over black terrible skies
to
open or implode to dine or starve occasioned to see you
it
was late evening those winds were swirling or particles were grime.
there
was science or reticence or sticky, chewed gum
there
was passion or lakes or haunted tapestries
to
have hit a strike those pins remodeled and dared to do it again
it
seems like danger or furious chance it speaks like riddles
when
we decided to dislike our breath, we stuck through hell to hate it.
