Sad Poetry: Extoling Gravity's Sympathies

 we were more antonyms than choices. spent footsteps in the forfeit of time's resolve. 

the rain was waiting. a patient assassin. 

we were boasting more answers than questions. unexpected detours in the contempt of touch. 

we let tomorrow assemble its machines. a desolate pantomime. of shattered skin and stranded thieves. 

the math sold more of our possessions than we anticipated it would. so many tiny zippers at the back of our throats coming undone. 

the distance sharpened its claws. a gentle predator. 

the light changed. we lingered in the intersection. overcome by the familiar. 

our pockets full of voices we don't remember. 

strays wearing every ugly word. 

the maps in our blood too fragile. 

leaving us with no way to go home.