. . .

for a second there

we punctured impressions into each other
clinging together like figsap saturation
momentarily..
I fell into your eyes
tripped over your heart
{you snuff my breath
with whispered swords}
_that goes something like:
i am different. here. right now,
from all you have extinguished.


they say unwanted girls would never learn how to *keep love*
.don't. deserve unconditional attention
we are the forgotten ones - who weren't good enough

but I feel like an emancipated woman,
ejecting intellectual discourse- to somehow
subjugate a patented fate-matter; and
reason- why we elementalise so
accordingly, in dreamscapes at airports,
where the mural-length glass panes are portals
to where we end up, and our expanse-
like Mandela's walk to freedom.


please don't say I'm a Botticelli goddess,
not unless we can stay enchanted.
and your smile, lit up my life, brighter than
fireworks on the Harbour Bridge, sadly-
I could only feel,
the heartbreak of those who have not yet
experienced you.

and you can't love a self-punishing masochist
because she won't let you.

I was born without rose-coloured glasses-
to really understand .worth.
I was worth your countless compromises,
gratifying as pornography. but you did teach me:
mess accumulation
socially tangible transanimation
eating in bed
the madness of indecision
love at fatally close sight
life after love>.

you'll always be more than enough for me
for you are a mystery- absolute in the world.
I'm insubstantial, narco-bound, staggering
to translate the sunscript liturgy of your purpose
and we'll meet somewhere in the middle- our stratosphere-
separating the convergence of lonely starcrossed winds,
sculpted to gallery in stasis, visually mnemonic.

now when I reach out, I'm only holding [ ~air~ ]
and I think-
I'm starting to outgrow you.

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