I’m trying to rearrange
bulldoze flowers from their peaceful niche
nobody explains that life’s a euphemism
a pre-planned cosmic game
where your score is ever faltering.
So you think I’m something strange
a poltergeist that flies through see through night
shifting bedclothes mouthing unyoked truism:
& your tongues so white from truth
you spit the words that sword me.
There’s nothing I would change
it’s perfect synastry to see the cracks beneath the pavement
I paint the starry heights while blighted by the darkness of our cataclysm
with nowhere left to be, but wipe our hands
on pristine stains that snare us.
I’m trying to rearrange,
bulldoze hieroglyphs you wrote on tainted sea
nobody explained that life’s a euphemism,
if something in your eyes records a record that I’ve missed
it’s too late now to kiss the faded see through borders
of what you meant to me.