the ***** of your chin is
gentle
nothing will numb you more
than the epitome of nothingness
soft collared shirts and grey-scale jeans
I feel music in you
like water
abounding with reluctance
here I stand
gently begging you to
be deafening.

chanting silently
we are here we were here
HERE WE ARE

with pale long dancing fingers I am
certain that the end is not near
nor will it ever be
for you