The rich desires of the eyes

We carry in our thoughts

And thighs

The waves explode, then disappear.

Just like our love, when it was here –

A moment’s touch, a turbulence,

And no sign of it ever since

The marvel of technology

For some, a world of luxury

While others waits

And sit on crates

And fracture their biology

The over-punctual know things

Unknow to those of normal state;

The things the early only see,

Or else the very

Late

The trail of all we leave behind,

Our legacy, and wake:

That shows that we were here, and real –

And not some tale

That’s fake

you see pictures of yourself

when you were in some prior relationship:

you might regret the relationship,

but you definitely regret

what you were wearing

you step into a house
full of the smell
of simmering bolognese

and wonder why
you’ve given thought
to ever being
anywhere else
at all