diametra

diametra, i wink for the less fortunate.
won't be formative but reserved: built on
the pretense that we are meant to be observed.
i can't handle your existence as leverage, i
call for the car, winning is breathing for me.
i'm against you and your teeth, intimacy teeth
fall sort upon the heavy security man, men who you
look back at me while possessing woman.
they each line up to become your spine
while hair grows on us everywhere. speak:
evidence to proof like cheese to mouse and
i am to hear you calling: pick me, mother
"won't you hold onto me in public?" resource
in the form of crossed fingers, shaken hands
in the way of the introduction that clogged up little
fragile, running on her voltage of not sure & what else

until we arrive

when you were a testament,
you made an example of
the fundamental crime of separation.

not separateness, the thing that
allows beauty. but separation, the action
which makes difference
partial enough to step on.

there being no real majority,
no real numbers other than zero
and one - i see as any. for in fact,
i forfeit my own eyes up to extend,
not simplify my vision,
and realize all sides that surround me.
we have manifested in one
infinite way.

there aren't enough titles,
we choose the same few:
lover, sister, child, mother.
we can associate, strictly, with the
single focus we have, the only scale
a scale of interpretted self,
and outside that could identify endlessly
until we became aware of
our same implications.

otherwise, we may move out
onto a watery earth of language,
speeches sending us into the absence,
and drift away
to where we say we mean to