shredder

yesterday the floor cracked once more.

I am going mad. if I want to have,

I can hoard but ice packs watch them glow for a split moment and latterly vanish .

I think we should overlook love,

especially as it is but natural to eat first.

you put the soup bowl bluntly on the table. from one side there comes that unseen, permanent

cavity – the metro up here, your averted face radiating

only to territories for the hands.

you sit and stay still.

I would give anything to have you. words are falling into crumbs on the floor.

a devastating hunger stretches me out to your mouth

but the canion has dug even more.

if I don’t do something right now we will never see each other again.

the spoon startles and loosens enormously, it is the last drop

that I am sneaking between your lips.