Foreground, middle and background

Cerulean was the indecisive longing

While waiting whitewashed the sorrows

Of me

Of us

Mapped on the gps of lefts and rights

Smacked on those cherry and cotton candy lips

At the end of that throat clearing

Up rising

I saw you

I felt

Alas a ghost in blackened sheets

It Was I

ubiquitous

here or there

Messing up the lost and found

More lost than found

Forever Chrysanthemum countdown

irresistibly thrown forward

life updates

Because Brancusi didn’t do readymade

Only documenting

The deliberate ephemeral of the boys

In pink.