Rift Mending & Nervous Endings

never been a prettier fool as when I fastened
a thread around your unwary finger & walked
the other way, looking back at every traffic light
seeing red, red, red left with nothing rattling cept
thoughts of myself as bread, how easy it would be
to rise. sequestered by a pesky sketch of our agonist
friend the antagonist, a lil' scuffed round the edges
but still me alright. it's an embarrassing proposition
you're holding but it glints a little if you mold its form
to your liking. I I I came here looking for answers
but got swaddled by my own binds of confidence
chewed down to its inevitable rinds. my voice
has not been working. it says too much, or blossoms
all the wrong conclusions. from eye's rise to mind's
set dragging positively behind. fixing the race under
a burdensome sun. is this the sumo that begins
a frenzied swim through sweat-soup? is this the smell
of a fire caught before engulfing everything tried
& truncated? how could I bear to affect you? let me
back up. I I I have been holed up in a lullaby drinking
tea desperate for you you you to look at me never
so serious yet never that kidding, just doing my story's
bidding. smelling winter flowers, smashing good behavior
into kindling. chest is closing so let me speak straight:
you were the stranger that orchestrated my trembling.
your words, awash with purpose, most humbling
prophecy & because there is a stunning probability
that you will drift away I I I am swallowing the replay
& spitting out that I adore your way-in-this-world,
your chewed nails & your bold intrepid voice,
so much that I don't know which I fear more,
that you suspect me or that you might forget me.