Forget my face; but count my fingers
Whisper my name, but forget your consonants
We are comatose oceans, we breathe hypoxic waves
Broken wood planks, and splinters in my bones
Chips missing from my teeth like old china in decrepit armoires
Unsnarling the vines of ivy from your hair
we breathe like broken ghosts while the sea dabbles in consistency
We watched a single arm stretch across the night sky, its two finger claw dipped in blue and black inks. I considered spilling my iris into a thimble to contribute, but my blues aren't the right hue so I searched for the color of another's eyes in the stagnant headlights of a highway. and I couldn't find them. I couldn't find you.