so major the disconnection. so
monumental how the inconsequential has consequences. to cut off intimacy,
angered by weakened ropes, where both parts are in rain. the sun lying down
amid atmosphere, but she needed to show her worthiness. I never denied your
value; I needed to attack; acid pours into a bottle. the dying gets lazy—digestion
becomes anxiety—ignoring you becomes unsteady. I’m not an imbalanced man, more
a blessed-cursed man, walking around sequoias. you invested so much—tore away
with ease—I wonder if remnants are present. we say it’s aberrant those deep
unfastening(s), where a person shuts off faucets
… for a spigot has valves attached
to organs but too much pain traumatizes natural instincts …. so much
disruption, seated upon ambition, so unsteady defacing our reflection.
I leave behind soil. I shall become
ashes. bugs will partake of flesh. many parts to you—I will never meet you—but we
identify parts and then ask about the wholeness. so false this way, sugarwater
by seaweeds by vast horizons of disappearance. one close to me will betray me,
it’s the one I pass bread to.
but more chairs more tables more
self – given over to empiricism.
I have met few with skill to soar
with art as law. our tears are different. our motives are unique. our needs
seem mixed by separation.
you will dislike me, most
definitely with time, buttons become aesthetics. so driven to fit perfectly—so forgetful
with time—so many faint remnants lurking inside. as awakened, made relevant, by
one insensitive.
made easy to offend. easier to
resist. much deflected anxiety.
no more than by countenance.
do I need to feel certainty? when
uncertain, do I lash out? is it by responsibility that we remain delicate? is
it seen as weakness, and partly a danger?
