Zywa
Misunderstanding in two
We tore our misunderstanding
in two abrasive stories
flakes of sour air
kept our own half
just like Saint Martin
but the other way around
between us: the shredder
we just took our right with us
it was so much work to do it away
up to three pieces at a time
rather we armed ourselves
under the skin, the gloss
shone through it
do not touch me
|