Time & time again,
the chess players snail their kings
cratering toward stale mate,
the neighbors crying, yelling “traitor!”
I wait for some sign that he might hit her,
they just circle inexorably like litter
in some mid ocean whirlpool.
Must be some kind of jewel to love such a fool,
I am, I am.
Time & time again
the moth that loves too much the flame
will become flame, and the moth begone,
and so it is with love before long.
The more you dig seeking the core,
the more we are buried by that we adore.
Love only from a distance, from a distance only.
To lose yourself is the darkest shade of lonely.
I am, I am.
But you’re a birthday deep with the day shine.
From dusk to moon break, the dust of keepsakes.
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