Out of Its Element

Sometimes I can't find my grasp 

on the edges of words (like the steps of 

swimming pools).

Our descent down railings in the rain 

would always end in tears, our porcelain 


lying smashed on the shining pavements. 


To dissect every one of your instagram captions 

is to pour petrol, sick and syrupy 

over my blistering skin, raw and exposed;

You make me feel

like an alien creature, flung far 

from his environment; 

his home. 


When the lock screen ignites 

with your name I am 



on the lunar plains for one sparkling

fraction of a second; in your sparse affections 

I have my home. 

The End

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