we're standing in a canopy of sunlight
and laughing, constantly.
our faces are tired of moving up
but our eyes are used to crinkling;
they fold, and shut, and open like buds
with the spread and shrink of our grins, in
and out, with our lungs.
Your nails are chipping now, but
You're really a halfwit,
So that doesn't deter you the least bit
From scratch-scratch-scratching at their shook ends:
They fall apart as we fall out.
We're spinning, we're dizzyingly quick,
Hurtling at the speed of 28,800 kilometres an hour; we're brisk
At best. (Inconceivable at worst.)
And I can feel, already, you slipping away.
You're outside of my grasp; you're far out.
We're ripping at the seams;
Our faces are like bad make-up
That doesn't move with our smiles;
Our eyes stay impassive,
Uninterested at best. Incensed at worst.
The crinkles in their corners are crusted
And new folds form on the frowns of our foreheads.
We're smothering each other in pillow talk and blankets.
We're bathed in rain, we're in a
Canyon, in a chasm.
We don't know salt from wound
Or snake from bite. We
Bring out the worst in our best selves.
We're drowning in suitcases and bedding.
We let it fill our lungs and we
Don't look back.