The stars show favor but the fever withstands.
I laugh at who I was, so in need of proof.
Taking swings at the past with invisible hands.
The mouth of your glass holding circular truth.
What can be said for our best-laid plans?
We were widowed by the paradigm of intimacy, too.
Outside of your window chuckin' rocks like David
(only, the Philistine was love and the weapon was you).

The first two bricks that made this building
appeared strong at first but collapsed when a rogue wind blew;
became the same two cents that were tossed by children
into a fountain then forgotten - oh, the recklessness of youth!

And like a turtle on its back.
Or a dog trapped in a burning skyscraper.
Or a crab caught in a fisherman's net.
This body is a shell for a thing I've not yet met.