this poem does not pretend to make sense

your blood is not lost on me,

this pearly connection a dreaded thought.

in the shallows of your soul i wait,

pained by unheaviness

crushed by your gravity

indebted to the spaces between breaths.

emptiness and willingness stem of similar roots,

both making excellent reasons to leave.

everything of lilac hue surrounds me;

under the tapestry of ink spills and bright spots

i accept what isn’t mine.

don’t get attached, don’t launch attacks.

make for a meaningless life in which

a white flag is raised

and the predators are polite.