this reflexive soul- how readily
i spurn another misery. yours
sat watching from the fenceline.
and me, oh, i get mine in swathes,
and, oh, of course it's over you. i'll
never be over you. i hope this fact
crosses your mind as i dissolve out
of your everyday, everyfortnightly,
every-now-and-then, and, finally,
impresent thought patterns. some
cruel sequence. just come keep me
warm. just a little while. for once, i
won't write it out cryptic:
but you'll be warmer without me. you've no need to apologise. i
don't know what i'd do with you,
anyway. you'll never come over.
i can't read the future, but this pattern, in particular, persists throughout my days.