The history—you and me—
it's carved in sandstone
*I've taken to asking
Scheherazade myself*
As though capital-T time cones
into a chisel of wind with which
to strike its flattest face
*There was a time I thought
you had taken to the idea
of leaving me and there
is naught to blame for
that but myself*
There is little evidence to believe
in history on loop until you've again
been consumed by blindness and
fear and utterly sick of yourself
*The one person you're with
every waking second*
Just thinking can—at ***** times—
be an act of self-negation
You told me you loved me and
I felt it in your breath
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
The history—you and me—
it's carved in sandstone
*I've taken to asking
Scheherazade myself*
As though capital-T time cones
into a chisel of wind with which
to strike its flattest face
*There was a time I thought
you had taken to the idea
of leaving me and there
is naught to blame for
that but myself*
There is little evidence to believe
in history on loop until you've again
been consumed by blindness and
fear and utterly sick of yourself
*The one person you're with
every waking second*
Just thinking can—at ***** times—
be an act of self-negation
You told me you loved me and
I felt it in your breath
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