Born Dead

I was ready to wait. Count hard. As if I was just learning. How near. How far. The end can be. The math was sound. It's the touch that betrayed. The science of love.

I can steal that parchment. Douse it in that same acid test. But the color won't be changed again.

Lies are ink when you listen closely. Skin is canvas when you stretch it tightly. I get old. I have no art left to do. Except the people I can't forget.

The water runs through her shoes. Bits of sandpaper. In life's strangle on the when. It asks. When she kew. Or if she ever did.

I don't want to have known, but I do. The lazy gods that usher us closer to these barren heavens.

The men. The cold machines that have failed us. So often.