Pliers

Shifting time lines we revisit each other's skin. Creating more of ourselves than we can punish. Traversing dimensions we run into ourselves now and then. Pretending not to recognize those ugly strangers inside our faces. It's just how far. It's just how sharp. The angle is. Between the different and the same.

If I could go back to before I was born. How could I be there at all? I am. Was. Are. Cocktails of us. Shaken. Poured. Smoothing the edges on the mirrors we had to break.

Touch is the perfect portal. Take these dominoes back. Knock them down then. Life is such a cascade. That we can't see coming. One stumble leading to the next. A series of impotent Godzilla's. Gaining momentum.

Telling time in bits of breath. Simple creatures want to understand what they cannot.
Quantifying hours in lipstick and condoms. Naming the machine. Sex. And children. And drugs. Attempting to control it.

Still it takes us away from each other. At every opportunity.