physical space
is smaller than the places between your fingers
resting pen
in the webbed, intertwining narratives
scribbled with fervor

it is no greater than the consequences of past lives
it                                is
       no                       farther
              than               Andromeda's
separate     beacons
  
it is less determined than my fragility

it is but a monument
shellacked in lost diplomacy
erected in dishonor/honor of all i am that you will never know
it is purposeful, tactful
embalmed,
for i cannot plan for inadequacies glaring, jeering
bare as my writhing body in night terrors, barren as my future
i'm always planning for things that do not exist here

i can only be one vulnerability at a time
they can never have all of me
what i want to give you is contradictory to what i'm willing
i buried my will for sunnier days
when my mind thinks less clearly
when my mind is not as rational, as matter of fact
when i, for a fleeting moment, am worthy of your touch
your eyes on every lookout,

on every break
in lines—

jagged edge