Took the strength of three of me to align the planets with the tone of your voice reflecting fragments I see, "would be" clinging to me like bedstraw on my laces, shiftless smiles I plead are true, clairvoyance fulfilled fantasies that I'd had minimal faith in, rotting and hosting mildew; regression inevitable and eremitic more like a shield than an excuse but no one seems to know the difference between the two, this heresy tastes acidic when everything I believe suggests that there is purpose here concealed in the cracks with blooming marigolds, promises sealed in the irises of my eyes, still unsure of the origins of this intensity and allegiance I am accursed to uphold.