take these ten
digits they're worthless
now
i've two crystal greys
for the price of none
...now there's a divine sovereignty
nightly weeping, she's weaving this
winter all wrong.
crossed-fingers, lips-bit and eyes squinting
i can feel her rusted dreams collecting in
a pie tin, she can't bake them she can't
feed us she can't fake this and she can't
keep us. she can't keep me.
