you sometimes seem

to carry these eyes,

too separate, different

from one another, yet

they still let me in this

silhouette of certainty,

beams of morning rise

invade sad-rose sheets

of torture, lonely leaves

getting paler and paler

each time we pause.

and we always repair,

loosened by impulse

to slide back in every

side slacking, asking,

begging, into always

breaking ourselves.

you let me let you,

'til we let us let go.

28 november 2022