There’s aesthetic anaesthetic
in the beauty of your form
and it
sedates the silent screaming
of my grief.
like chloroform.

and then,
your eyes are dampened charcoal,
large and lovely
set apart
a doll, they roll,
your eyelids flutter,
set the beating of my heart.

Below
your boyish nose is Elvin
(perfect, small and straight and neat)
and I could
listen on for hours
watch its end move as you speak.

I can’t
articulate the angles
that compel me in your face
but I can’t stop myself from staring
(there-in everything is laced)

but still I know
we’re not well suited,
though our needs are well aligned
because they’re
all so insurmountable
also...

you can be unkind.