it’s almost as if i can see through you at times, it seems,
your translucent, slender torso leaning on a rim
with a **** of your head, you look at me through the eye of
a dripping jungle, a tropical storm gargling
a homely beating, a nostalgic scene brewing
a solitary pension, a forlorn siren searing
“it is i,” you say as we pass by the lips
yet it’s almost as if i can see through you no more, it seems,
your opaque, flimsy torso bending on a rim
with a sleight of my teeth, you look at me through the eye of
the shreds of a battered bond; nothing more.
