the engine growls. the vacuum gasps. a broad collision of grief. without a beginning or an end.
only the fierce thunder of now. crisp in our veins. and the dull ache of when. as it chews on our skin.
long lines stretch across the gaps in our intimacy. gears and teeth cutting away at the paler geometry. we stopped counting long before it ceased making sense.
it was only ever numbers. the cardinal deception. the empirical flaws. the staling of trust. as it sours on our tongues. all the small cuts that never seem to heal. filling our throats with the bile of intention.
voices tempered. sweet and bitter. like melting chocolate. years solved. by an unexcepted sweetness.