you:** stuck in a bivouac that I said I outgrew
me: taking my wants from some list I once knew

I constantly compound, touching just grinds,
for ever-expanding still means there are binds.

Now that I have it, I sputter, all spent
My strengthening will? Only stands bent.
Shaking, I spit, then sway where I stand.
Uncertainty forces a reach for more hands

I had come unglued, and you’d had no clue,
now I lie awake, losing memories of you.
A catalyst came, yet something is waning,
so I ask myself, from what is this draining?