so we’ll skirt around it, –point fingers at my lack of
skirt-wearing, your hatred of blue shirts and ships and ‘shit’s–
so she emerges only onto maps of accolade.
musical accomplishment equates to intellect and
calculated decisions. i play her music loud enough
in the living room and wait for you to ask about
the creator. soon enough it is god instead, who peels off
the cross over the tv, is sprinkled upon my honesties, adorn them
as sins. we learn the lines that part us and we learn the routes between.
she’s appropriate on scores and scholarships. in a flock,
onstage, performance. living room. easy to remember the
pavements we’ve lain between our home, and mine.
easy to remember pavements, but i’d like to walk the grass.
i see my inheritance is this muteness, not your housewarming.