beautiful being, insidious interior

the following is a hollowing.

*

your hands

long to

belong to me

and shortly after

i will kiss you

for once

not tasting myself

*

feel all

fell fall

and

watch as the fires

of autumn

wilt in winter

with her

*

the book reviewer

wishes to write better

than the book

the critic

considers themselves

art

and i sit alone

convincing myself

i am okay alright fine

and not fully alone

*

the heart is the heaviest

thing when incomplete

and when broken

it thuds to the legs

stopping you from moving

to the light

*

i have been stuck

on building simple poetry

because

simple sticks

have built more

than i have been

*

i am as

i was which

i will remain

i even when

i don’t