crushed down like cinnamon through sugar
jasmine blooms burning into clove
they will make beautiful things from you
sublimated by expectation and resin
untraceable beyond disconnection
it’s a fentanyl dream spiralling
a convergence of memory with derealisation
you can no longer believe in either
it burns at the back of your throat
smoke that takes the place of pavement
from the whites of your eyes, rituals carved
pleasant wounds to make way for sunlight
it was all given in promise for gentle kindnesses
a love you would never allow yourself
an impatience for your own mind
you are owned by lost time
enamoured with moments you cannot retrace
you wish you could hate it all but you don’t know how
a liminal existence of repetitious doorways
everyone is leaving without you
/// 