Strike

Strike four

I tried to remember you contour

there is such a thing as in instant click but

whether you've wanted to take it with you

is but another potential question, too philosophical to touch at


Strike eight

our unfinished conversation

about the sky, humanity

how the world should be shaped

marriage, your mother

visuals, beauty

our perceptions

see, they are going to halt somewhere

we didn't want to hurt ourselves


One strike


figures never mattered

just as physicality never does

I never meant anything to you

how many times could one fall to learn

what's right for them


who was I to you,

or who am I to you, I asked


I must be a fool

to open myself up to you