justice for just us

tears wiping away

a face

from me

with eyes fixed on

wherever it is

nothingness fits into

a room

or just

between us

*

the problem with poetry

is that it has no solutions

and this ambiguity

produces more poems

*

whether you

ask how you are

answers who you are

*

maybe possibly someday

i will remember

that

absolutely certainly always

you will not

*

chopped liver

or

chipped lover

in our end

it is still

o

displaced

i