I bought you these times so you can paint them over with
spiced calamity.
Before anything began, we were around- I mean literally,
around each other and with no loose ends.
Time stretched lazily on your bed as you kept yourself at
your desk, defying poetry-
I'm sure you killed, be it flesh or reason.
Startling the skies, maybe we fed the world a big mistake
and now we're kept in constant hunger,
all our gifts and curses to ourselves.
