I do not know what is inside you.
You do not know what is inside me.
So let us set aside
our skin-bound jacket descriptions
and learn to accept
avert our missile eyes,
sheath our serrated tongues,
put away our draining habits
and live each other fully
in ever-locked embrace.
Defining truth with lies, the loving so must die.
Youth is not a stone;
and death is a stone’s throw
a pebble rolling slowly down the hill,
snowballing into cliff face.
I will cherish the feasts in my belly
alongside the wishbones in my throat,
for everyone must choke.