What we would want, if wanting was what we were.

In sleepy resolve, deliberate notions I cannot take responsibility for
your unintentional reactions.
San Andreas could crack at any second, pressure to blame or not. Talk about saints and faults, is it any goddamned coincidence? Speak then of the devil, talk about coincidents; two birds with one stone
sitting on your shoulders, weight gone
now with your weight on mine.

Without second thoughts, or leftover seconds on the face
that hangs over our heads, we lie in wait.
and wait, tk.

Your eyes are snares. tk.
Thank god for them.

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