we talk about current affairs with swollen mouths, with mirrored hands, palm flat, fingers that touch on a plane// we agree too much, i think it messes with my sense of familiarity; there is both heartache and resolution in the epicanthic fold of your eyes// i can't help but look like a moth might return to the flame; unable to meet your eyes like the coward i am; facsimile of equal exchange-- but i know you can give, and give, and give, and i want, i want, i want, i want, i want, i want//