You slashing my tires with whatever was left

my birthmark looks exactly like you, an eye finding every pocket of lost conversation and you, your shifty dialect, your body which grinds itself
into the dust of the tiny movements you have been, trying, you know the difference between loss and how we are lacking, you with the sullen posture
and mathematical heart, the grungy eyes and crumpled fingers; you always asking questions with the intent of proving of a point, you

the noise which never comes back to
you hiding in a mile of consequence,
you in the lacustrine drinking saline water for relief, you the disappointing echo
that refuses to learn new languages you and your tunnel

the universe and you you you you the idea, sloppily

deceiving your own photos, you and pain will be
oceanic marbles, you in impossible motion, you the gaps we couldn’t separate
from the smiles, you wasted it, you are flashlights buried in pavement,
you were too young to know how pain creates
artificial sentences, you with no comparison, you folding within the claustrophobia of semi-trucks moving closer & closer together towards you, realizing
you were never whole, you were never any
more gentle than you thought.


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