The scent of your word tempts me to turn away from need, in ways that lure scavengers to scarcity. Those enclosed conduct their symphony, noting

In love speaks to hurt as it does to worth, in angles that extract and tend to leave lack. The ubiquity of words on the

You’re stuck in my heart like gum to the grooves of a shoe. I never realized I was that piece of gum, or that you

Storms catch our like-mind in a diametric dialectic— I’d never think to capsize outside of our umbrella plan. I follow you when it’s your turn

i Good luck finding your flame when stuck in a retrograde phase. I can’t explain what that means anymore than I can the notion of