Bare Inventories

Some unknown. Perpetual epiphanies conceal chronic relapses. She's a princess. In doll clothes. Foil earrings and fingers of petroleum. Sparse rain falling into broken reservoirs.

Terminals. Eyes like dashboards. How far we've gone to get back to where we started. Love is casual. Love is certain.

We are not.

Waking the dinosaur in small increments. Doses of clarity only make it harder to see in this darkness.

Every breath is a habit. An addiction of some sort. Touch the evidence. Orgasm the proof. Assembling each other as we do. Shoving the puzzles peices into places they don't belong. Living as thoughtlessly as we do. Trying on wings that don't belong to us. I don't want a cure. Just a better sickness.

I slept through my own funeral. I didn't want to know who wasn't there.