past chaos, future order

like rivers blue veins down his hands
pale and. sunsoaked . light nails like shells
words come tumbling

like the
delicacy of grayed paper shrill into
bright copper bowls of peppercorns
(in the end we live in two different worlds
and he has nothing to do with me
necessarily)

troglodyte cities enter the rest
of that world fades away like it's done
flimsy ill-balanced and now fallen, it seemed like a
dream we lie