Chain Links in Each Other’s Fence

Not done with digging, finding different
misshapen sets of eyes with each layer.
No reason in the flood-patterns, mashed
bursage and brome only reveal how easy

it is to fall in the wake of matter more
viscous than we–Meaningless ruptures
with more force, more impression than we…
Craving his green heart, black eyes while

spinning around antique maps I’ve spent
a lifetime tracing, we disguise ourselves
as Young and Beautiful, looking for a fight.
Smoke cigarettes to feel nostalgic or to keep

a weapon close by when moon’s gone–
walking alone, cutting through the night,
secretly hope salvation can be sucked
into lungs like demons swallowing spirits.

Dying sensation of imagining your sympathy,
fingers trailing lakeside, it happens when
I hear his name: somewhere synapses snap
Around my head with his vibrations, logic

logic loses grip. There’s foxglove where
my better judgment should be, poison
in my every decision, erodes us both,
but he has the type of love I need: lust

running through the ruins, black box
buried where no one can retrieve, sunlight
unable to steal it away. Transform his
words to threads wrapping around our

limp hands, try to wind tighter pull a strand
every time he leaves, takes a slice of me
with him to drag across hollow ground, torn
strings fluttering are all I see these days…


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