i am not mistaken for anything other than what i am
i come to you empty-handed and ask to be given everything
the sky breaks before you do and closed eyes see clouds
on the horizon it all looks smaller than the palm of your hand
the grainy film of affection burning out right in the middle
right where it gets good, because it always happens like that
and i’ll never be able to get my money back. we pay for ever
ything in increments. our bodies will wrinkle like old peaches
and then who will ever say we had anything in common?
this is the ellipsis of our story. we will grow up one day
and not remember any of this. i come to you empty-handed
and i leave empty-handed. we swallow ourselves from the
feet up, and the sky begins to murmur just as it cuts out.