Lover’s eyes open their salty spigot;
cry a sea in which we gladly drown.
How does a lover cry against a broken, falling, failing brick wall in the city…
A rushing by bicycle sweeps through the heart’s blood,
sending shrieking crimson drops into the air,
leaving dark ruby contrails on the pavement
some road from whence you came or which you follow –
                   again.
One never does learn. Pain coughs across the heart –
a deathbed influenza that should kill but awfully does not.
Our softness incompatible with the steely cold of loss.
Zombified hearts choose to run on all six cylinders and it’s a go –
Awful lover’s pain drags you screaming through the night,
choking on a soul’s breath of what is now carbon monoxide,
sure and steady poison that was never in a kiss, but this…
a new death that faints before the mirror, just so you can see yourself falling.,
it nails the dive, the dip and you are done for.
Not even unique in your casual hell; a pulse dips, causal.
A secret almost death: he’s not to know.
We speculate in dreams about the Why, wonder about the future indefinite,
the big If/Then that is the basis for all – even in chaos.
So why must the mathematical decay beneath our pencils?
Why cannot the geared integers sing?