to have loved her differently
with more oranges and browns in the
paint box along with the fine-toothed repulsion oh! how
mirrors reflect merely the red buds in Spring along with the bliss as
blackbirds and fire are indifferent to the thrumming noise
and marbles as I am indifferent
to the copper fear tasting of decayed gardens
and a bit of blood
oh! how joy looks so far away from the jacquard window this morning oh! how
i long for sleep sleep sleep amongst cats and rain
oh! how
to have love her differently
with more oranges and browns would have allowed me to hate her
differently too
