- Vol. 06
- Chapter 09
a sketch, in the age of everything
confetti chest hairs peeking through
holes of your shirt, cotton balls
jungle bound, they hate it
and i carry my envy to a full term. raise it
give it shelter
for show n' tell on fridays i bake it pie.
the plea? ...simple, a call to note
chains and handcuffs,
dripping from me, possess your name
carved with bite marks into steel.
you, would Not love me s a n e
i doubt i would either. swimming
back to deserted planets, naming
gas giants after our saints, spamming
out of orbit moons
with my 'checking-up-on-you-texts'
the efforts always felt like a prayer into a dry well
(they still do)
but we – well, You choose your poison
and i make lists
of which floors need a wash before my lover’s visit
quietly return to my life without you thinking
it’s perhaps 98.6% all about effort,
and in the age of everything
one good thing could be enough.