Everything was a poem, the world destroying itself so damn
Carefully I began counting the stars to keep myself busy,

We think about storm clouds, not the ones that ate up your
Mother but the ones that your father loved, even when

They’re both the same.

The first lover taught me that love should be tangible, maybe
That’s why I stripped naked and danced under the moonlight.

The moon is a cup I never drink, but I see myself in the lakes
Drinking birds out of their mouths. The second lover taught me

That the only good thing about humans was we could use them,
Sometimes I would lay bare and have him tug me at places I

Kept secrets. I am so sad that I witness my unfolding with a joy
So powerful that flowers sprout every where I dig my own grave.

This thing we learnt in school, storm clouds rage for hours holding

Your body hostage. When were the clouds gentle enough to seek
Your pity? I place the flowers inside my armpits, I linger for the

Touch that dispels gravity.

The third lover taught me that if it was cold you keep the sweater
For yourself but pass on the flimsy jacket. This jacket doesn’t keep

Me warm but it lets me live the illusion that I am loved. I am so
Loved that if I give my heart away I’ll still believe that my

Death was not wasted. The gods that orbit my body love you
More. Even when I die they keep me for you. I will want to suffer

In afterlife but in this version I will want to suffer more. I am
Vulnerable to all kinds of promises.