Time & time again,
Eyes like icy lakes. Beware
you don’t end up falling into.
It is cold in here. Too cold for you.
The warm hands that reach for me,
even if they don’t in touching freeze,
these fangs of ice that on me grow
only get longer when they melt. You know
I am. I am.
Time & time again,
but the pipes that rattle in my walls
racing with their blood bird calls
will drum until the last note falls.
I don’t want to be alone,
but life is not like writing poems
of mattress violence. Every time
I choose to love it doesn’t rhyme.
I am. I am.
But you’re a birthday deep with the dayshine.
From dusk to moonbreak, the dust of keepsakes.
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