Ill-defined

Hard to find

I’m flummoxed by your smile

Because by all regards it should be hideous

But in fact lets me see you closer up

…

And we can suture

the bite marks later

I saw every move you made

in your disheveled hair

I’m not sitting down

no way

not with this thing in my chest

I can precisely hear your ticking bell.

That yelling

I’m yelling because

I can’t hear myself

already yelling.

It’s better not to see you

and see how old you’re getting

I did know you

That person died

                            and rose hell.