more or lens

You told me not to bring god up unless he was out of the question. I stared

As the shapes of your smell were noisily growing, rushing towards some kind of a point.

Making it forced me to shut down all gesture, all attempt to exhale.

Nothing cold bound to bind us, just the skin they all touch in order to know. I gazed

But no kindness was watching.

Without any fear there’s no going under, you shouted

So the plastic house could understand our game and embrace it.

Then the top of my nose broke loose gently, praying for objects

Instead of approval or a chest to sleep on at the end of their squint.