tomorrow, a test to prove buried thoughts my fingers twist.
i realize this day, i pretend to be tomorrow
don’t say anything with words. try this: after

eyes, almond factories, incessantly inching through rooms
of gold panel and blue staircases
i believe you think wrong of me

praising the regular
i pretend to know a king of jewels and grace
is it possible to tear through years with yourself to be with
another

whatever i do, i realize i have only come here
to run into a piece of literature
and i create myself again and again
*--e.m.