i walk along the backcountry road
watching the occasional land rover go by
and i wonder: where did it go wrong?
what mistake in navigating my way home
did i end up down this path, away from
the path i could see the end to

though i may want you
i don't want to hold your hand
backtrack any thoughts or words
written with you in mind
regret devoting so much
time and energy to study your features
or wondering whether you can end up
making the mistake of being with me

a slurry of fire and magma can’t escape
through the crust, being stopped by a
thin layer of earth, unable to express
itself, to wreak havoc upon the earth.

it’s passion is bottled up, its fear is contained,
his fury is sealed, saved for another day
when it can express its emotion.
but now, the crust encases it like a weighted blanket

i cannot tell where you stand
or what you think of me
do you tread on dry land,
or do you go through the sea?

your signs are unreadable, your lips are
divine, perhaps a sign that
you are like a traffic light going back
to green, or to red, to tell me to slow my car

but i can’t stop, it’s on a hill
and the brake-line is cut  
and as i gaze out of my windowsill
and see a tree sprouting chestnuts

and they ask me:
why do you subscribe to spotify premium?
and i say that it’s only to put the song
by the smiths with his name on loop
that i might hear his name spoke

your eyes inject me like fentanyl
making me addicted
making me dependent on every glance to live
i’m addicted to your smile, your charm
and all that’s you

he speaks to me about the xylem
and the phloem, meaningless to me when
the only thing i want to do is listen
to him yap, and to gaze at his eyes
like it’s the sun, and i’m a plant