I didn't belong, not then, not there.
but i feel my way
backward

It codes for a day
where you sit next to someone
and confide your history.

I have been making sense of
all the senseless endings
all along.

An object held by a gaze, radiating.
You would say passion but a demon
has sewn your lips shut.

It looks up as if to ask: Tell me
How often do you feel the way you feel?
By you he meant me.