Sometimes I talk to myself
late at night when I've lost that
cadence
of the summer and I want to walk the seasons
with you
Let your eyes break these walls
and your heart
spill
like tap water
condensation meets teen angst
I reap your sorrows like a bitter hatchet
[and you tear me apart]
last year we got skylights
[ a thing of dreamers and artists]
and when it rained
I felt you pour over me
I drop my hands to my sides
and mistake you for something [supernatural]
I miss that
concordance of kisses
and the tail end of your sentences falling over each other
silver chains and promises
you drop your apocalypse in my mailbox
and wait for me to die for you
you put me on thin ice again
tonight, I see the violet of your blood
and I pick at the varnish
of your floors
thinking of colored string
and white chocolate
[and, of course, you are in me too]
as light hits your crevices
I inhale you
dark perfection ? Cabaret ?
and when the night stops
you hesitate
and I lose my train of thought


 
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