I die a little bit inside each time you offer an explanation for my self, stubbed heart [popped out of sync] dips toward the ground and flutters to a silence
a still, empty blue presiding over the world at large tonight, permeated by plumes of white (from the scrambled heads of dreamers)
nothing to hold against your fiery facade, flaming formidable fits of brilliance blazing before my flustered eyes
and why do we cease to contract, left ventricle?
to start up again and enjoy it that much more (the second time around)