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.