(THE DARK KNIGHT
LOVES THE DSM-II)
you had the best right words.
until you just had a lot of words.
until you had just too many words.
until i’m not sure if words is good
anymore. until i think we’re just
made of them.
but now when i see it’s always you
+ me + something in my arms.
rubella with her broken rolling neck
and choking music box.
poor rubella O that feeling. loved her
so well you loved her too.
there was a book about a tin can
and other objects talking traveling far
having big names?
and my lungs weren’t big enough
but i’d try to breath as deeply next
to you sleeping.
