from the corners of my conscience

don’t say that you love me

i’ll take it too far

an innocent splinter

turned permanent scar

tell me i’m wicked

unlock the bell jar

just don’t say that you love me

you told me one hundred and eighteen items

compose the universe

and we are all them, and they are all us

that water was one away

from turning poison, and likewise

oxygen two away from deadly

and i’m certain if i could have anything in the world

it would be those two atoms

i used to count the days in

steps taken, in

glances stolen, in

words pricking my ears

measured warmth of the sun by

the minutes she revolved around me, in

the fiery intimacy of her arms on

my skin

and of the moon who watches over

her beloved earth amid

the stars, gave no courtesy but

locked eyelids and wandering dreams

the world twirls rapidly like

a top on the pavement and

i am the child whose joy is

its purpose

spin, spin, spin for me until

i become the gravity. despite

the force acquired, found, below

i fall—down, down, down

i mark each day out

now in air exhaled out,

in hands stretched out,

i used to count the days in

steps taken, in

glances stolen, in

words pricking my ears

i measured the warmth of the sun by

the minutes she revolved around me, in

the fiery intimacy of her arms on

my skin

and of the moon who watches over

her beloved earth amid

the stars, i gave no courtesy but