don’t tell me you didn’t have plans

that the same thing keeps ‘just coming up’

strategic

gain what you want, massage the message

it works with them

i already know your end game, so the steps you take whether stomping or prancing are all the same it’s the run up

to streetlight walks home, well, the home with a changing key for the next few nights that affect eternity and the buzzing of children who wait for your touch underneath their endured screams from someone who knows too much and can’t stand the throbbing pulse, pushing temples aside and blurring vision

double, now fly eye

learning to die

it’s simple division when one goes into two

you innocently mention the size of his phone asking if the number still works for the pad key code you used in madrid where you thought it was safe

where you hid

away from the throngs of passerby’s and street scene dealers whispering away cries from a thousand miles away, never to reach you

the ones who’ll believe they’re at fault

i denied myself trust once

engulfed in escapes through time and space to tree fort saturday nights letting him trace the lines leading me home