Fracture

I keep the music loud in this space to
be white noise in my ears instead of you
and your drumming. Some rhythms aren’t
for me to dance with. You are
the art of seduction, the candles
lit in the chandelier. It’s perfect
you’re perfect. Am I? Only human
after all.

This is the division point, where
we see how many more times I can
be shoved into you by hands and feet.
Where lines blur and rotate,
no more symmetry;
all the pushing and pulling apart
has become an issue.

There is no yesterday to
try again here; no erasers or kilns
for burning the love letters
I might have written. Here is where
Jesus hops on the train two cars behind
you, and just a moment too late.

Start storming when you wake up
brew the clouds overhead like
coffee, hold them in the cup
and sip up the sorrows because you’re
not one to disappoint.