they must have regret
anchored like
and gravity to pull you

i don't like the colours i
see with these
the indigo portions of
finality and echoes of
leeching their way to
me. in my mind, i can see
red and yellow and black
tortured people, a swarm of
angry stains
this is not how we must let
ourselves feel human
there are creases where the world
folds into divisions for you
and me
so we could mark territories
and make the sky
a burst of colours that we'll swallow
and find disease spread through
our transient limbs