adieuwinter

First love, no matter how true or faithful clings to you like lacquer on a coffee table worn down, buffed smooth from years of abuse and neglect but never fully chipped away and always brushed on fresh and wet when given attention my love for you sits heavy in my wrists, my fingertips guiding them to trace your name over and over and over digging deep valleys and canyons through my neurons and synapses so that when I die the medical student gifted with my body shall read our story on my grey matter as clearly as his textbook first love, no matter how true or faithful takes a different piece from each person serial kill

there is little grey left in a sky going white        we are too soon             to win the struggle             for memory, history        far too early-on        to be trusted  see me through        me you us     we    found everything        and lost it        in the hot blurry                 state shift                 of the ember   we pretended we weren't a burning window               closes     and this brief     mess of man               is crystallized               for but a blink     in the snap     and crash        of its crocodile jaws there is little grey left in a sky going white