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Regina, I didn’t want to talk like this. Here past our last goodbye, Hieronymo’s mad againe. In Livingston when I first broke my mouth and when the cracked gray of your eyes was my last connection. You said ‘nothing’s falling, nothing’s falling, nothing’s wrong’ and then your eyes were not the sky, but the sky receding.
Before half the best had died, when everything was open. Before saturated time, when we could hold a moment. Let’s not say I loved you then or then I loved you fiercely. The cracked gray of your eyes was my last connection.
I shatter I busted mouth and thistle-head. I scatter I gone strange to my own person.
My eye shattering light busted mouth and thistle-head. My eye scattering light like a diamond.