Flying out of the nest, At sixty mph, Four hours—without rest.

I can’t say I know, The bed where you lay, The shape, color, and patterns, That makes up your day, I can only say now,

No implications, Did I notice at the time, Only the key strokes.

Whenever I’m alone, I stay smiling, Counting the stitches sewn, On 100 thread count sheets, Wishing for rain,

I feel like I could vomit tears, But that wouldn’t suffice, For amount of years together, Exactly twice, I have no idea...

I’m not a side dish, I’m not a left—over, you can’t put me away, you can’t save me for later, as with all things,

You collect calluses, Like precious gems, Revering their form, Keeping them close, And if it wasn’t for me,

The language of love flowed freely… Through the rivers of our veins, During the summer we discovered ma… And razors edges. We used the torn corners,

Tried to meditate, too many different people, are inside my head.

‘We’re the same’, Teetering on edges of lines, I ca… And you say again ‘we are the same… Conflating words, Of an honest one,

‘I’ am the lifeless infinite. ‘I’ am the sun, perforating throug… ‘I’ am a strawberry moon. But what is I?