.and we’ll have ourselves a merry little christmas;
once we set the gears in position ’twas but a test of faith to start all things in motion, passing forth into the void as we had always feared was inevitable.
check-mark next to the name; cross whatever it is off the list of everythings forever.
i’m a quatrain not yet formed on the lips of your mother’s misplaced forgiveness. full of riddles with no response and a siamese evil twin you can’t quite shake off, let’s scream into our dixie-cup telephones likes saints and strangers once more.
how many empty glasses carry yr name; crumpled napkins, our story. alas, the dot dot dot futures teeter forward and back . . .
; count the passing holidays on our unclasped hands
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