Counting Backward From Zero

the world was all studious conjunctions. and lazy adjectives.

exceptions came and went. in a tumultuous pantomime. little needles in deep veins. all their threads too nervous to believe.

the truth yawned. a rushed facimilie of our lives. all borrowed colors. and lingering grays. bored with our constant hysteria.

we spent each other in nickels and dimes. poorer with every touch. wasting our promises on flower petals and mud.

time was a generous assassin. as it slit our throats. carefully collecting each drop of blood.

knowing we might need it again someday.