boiled masks jet-lagged
with anger and the
leaves growing off
my fists are damp;
crowded with fallen
spaces.
there is a spaceship
overcrowding our
growth so we have
nothing to live
for.
abused for a meaningful
awareness of neglect
and strong perfume
off his stagnant
throat.
i am sorry.
but i could
never be your
void of
the space between
us.
i am bold
to lie with you
and lye to you.