yet, grey cemented fingertips
held tight to my fractured ankles.
i devote my black lines to
you now. I relinquish my pains
in hymes and otherness rhyming.
im structured in the carved howls
and linger in paragraphs of
pain.
i miss you.
i am swiss skies without
holes;
just opaque grey clouds
layered with tears.
layered with tears.
layered with tears.
without furry breathes
or hearts beating
or capitals.
no more lies no more lines
no more waves unkind.
just what we had with stamps
approved by your limitless
sighings of settling.
i am swollowed whole
and yet,
there are our yets,
waiting to dry.
compression tears.
moiste kiss.
there you are, Zen.
i am free in
you.
