my fingertips trace smoke signals along your spine

the colors run
down the filthy glass
as the world outside
becomes another
black and white
misremembrance
a celebration of
the nothingness
lurking just behind
cold dead eyes
and vacant
serpentine smiles
a hint of venom
in the earnest flooding
of inoculated tears

the verses spill
pooling across the cold
tile floor in
viridescent slicks
another morning spent
leaving footprints
back and forth
in stunted dismay
wet socks and sullen frowns
the gray skies
drip no pity down upon
half baked heartshivers

is the world on a loop
or is this the precipitous
moment right before
the bottom falls out
the last rusted car
on a dead end track
unsafe unharnessed uncaring
hoping for one last burst
to launch humble truth
in circular confusions
as the track falls
section by section
until there is no choice left
but to accept
the rancid exhumations

the colors run
leaving streaks on the
filthy glass
wan gray light diffuses
through rivulets of
speckled dirt
mercurial verses pooled
one too many messes
to clean up on a day before
a solar eclipse
where you are the last
ray of light
to illuminate
the motes of dust hanging
over the corpse of
flash frozen heartache

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