spun
tiny orchestras
the pill on your tongue
the straw that breaks your back

daylight
opens its mouth
i stream out of you like water

to be wired by you, to be pinned
to be worn by someone, i wear you
on my smile these days

Silent and sweet,
Quiet and cute.
Feelings all hid,
In a jar with a lid.

Gazing at your shape
From across the room
You sit on the floor
Motionless,
We have touched
Perhaps a total
Of four to five occasions;
Your price going
For a multitude of this number.
Of this what truly comes to matter?
Your true use or the idea of you?
The issue ongoing in shades
Of black and white;
The jury is still out.

the dank soil tightened
scent of relief after rain
sunset burned like sighs
in time the gray sky turns blue
so do the streaks in their eyes