You love not what we are, but that we are, and the vernacular of our misunderstandings enters as second chances. Repetition becomes negation and negation rebirth and the sun is laced with disclosures and who you callin a ho gets blurted out whenever possible over allegro piano solos you let the phone keep on ringing-- It's the kind where the buttons light up and glow when it does and that's the one shimmer in the room and the declaration of difference has made blackness irresistible even to itself, an addiction, a pathological elegance, or a flag or a flame or life itself
