Crystalline cold upon asphalt:

Fated.

It melts for me,
I am colder by you,

We do not collide.

worn wooden beam

flaking paint in places where
you held me.

hollow in its solidity,

wearied by your caress.

We are that which hashes
    her

That which expends her swirling muscled tones

That which chisel at
this four-by-four;
her cedar

      a vessel desecrated.

We are terse,
we are pixels projecting this
    dance—

Her steady plateau
Her watery eyes

A dozen hooded faces:
red.

Plain-blooded assertion:
"I am only self-assured for
checkout".

Chorus

or Operator:
neither under registry.

late to the dusk of her
hands: dazzle me,
love,
a loneliness
best left unsaid.

tipping towards new dawn

her heavy eyes
   collecting ashes.