XIX

everything is a swirl of mangled gore.
and in the flurry of faces with yelling eyes,
i almost lost yours —

bonded.

remind me.

i am a fickle forgetter of all things foreign.

"what could separate us now?" —

remind me.

it seems that your heart is the color of the sky.
you're the only one who can make me stand in the shape of my body.

(i love you)