Some things stick in the mind — snippets of a melody, a particular shade of yellow. Unsurprisingly, I obsess over words and the nuanced ways we communicate with each other.



There was something about   
this hurts me more than it hurts you  
but all I saw was the faint tremor
at the corner of your mouth   
how you kept blinking, blinking

You were lying    I knew this
and still I marveled
that you imagined I was child
enough to believe            you, pacing
back and forth and back, became

believer of your own cunning
linguistics       the mumbled tales
taking on their own kind of harmony

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