Yet eager for more
noticing in the mirror...

We might be just a dot, a stratum,
buried in the layout of ladybug wings...

Before reaching the end,
life placed you before me...

Such inverse efficacy:
Rocks grind...

In the weight of all they say,
they reach weightlessness...

Like all the whites and pinks tailing
your heir...

Love me incomplete,
the way I am, otherwise...

Let me be indebted
to your vulnerability...

-Why each thing must end?
-For the reason dear, they are...

Is it about my bookshelf
or is it about the depth behind all those books on...

Between now and then
we are forever running...

For years,
you made me carry shame...