Orbit
 

In the emptiness, our disparate particles had been compressed by the weight of hunger until one heavenly body absorbed the other.

 

We fell into an orbit predicated on mutual need - a transactional trajectory, that took me to places I wouldn’t normally have gone.

 

Affection measured-out and duly noted, you tended to my illness hoping for something in return:

 

I have the body.

You have the balm.

Either way, I’m glassy-eyed.

 

Desire superimposed, an objectifying overlay, I write my name in the ocean in order to be forgiven but receive only trash washed-up onto the shore.

 

All you need is an audience.

All you crave is a warm body. 

I could have been anyone. 

 

I did what I did because its what I thought I was supposed to do. Sympathies shifted like a flower taken from one grave and put at another, 

 

I am finite.

I am but a visage. 

 

There are some things that can’t be undone.