Pupils are a highway to the back of the head,
Dilating jokes, smiles, and secrets--something fine was bred
Portals to the gray slush that creates an eternal infinitum,
Ad nauseum

Stretch out this highway between two end points,
Two souls in their semi-quixotic actuarial flecks of dimensions
Mix up those brains with a batch of beans, and God chows down his breakfast
Divine, and true enough for humans to taste in each others' laughter.

Peel the stretchy parts of the meal off the top of your mouth,
Play with the gum between your fingers and teeth
and feel the screams of the tearing hearts
Springing together in sudden relief

Help me remember the price I refused to pay
Thoughts still pass through this quirky fleshbag
The strength I sacrificed for the chance to see you smile has yet to end in echoes.
Never a second wasted, and never a year forgotten as we turn into hags.