Around the corner, carefully
spread under the weight of
an artificial skeleton
partially collapsed like light
bent in a glass; displaced.
I spit static at her feet
like a broken tv threat
in the middle of a storm
while times face spins
and gives away pieces of
itself, generously, hand over hand
slowly becoming expended.

We've become victimized
by spacial distortion, left
with no options. Standing
as question marks with
long shadows as dusk dies
making gestures with mouths
that build dust on bedsheets.
I tell her that I love her like
liferafts and that in the ocean
of days she is keeping me afloat.
The words break the ground into
uneven sections, missing all fault
lines and creating walls of syllables,
tall like trees that flower and cut off
all lines, leaving us momentarily
incommunicado.