softening everything to eternal ash,
the day hurts hard in hours
and I am chord-struck.
I do not want shopping plazas,
I rather brick buildings;
I do not want a truck,
I want a subway.
bent from bricks on shoulders,
and the weight of your poetry,
crack my back and rot in hell,
you're welcome.
I am now precious with my soul,
because of alchemic perspective,
and the knowledge that hearts
are also accessible from behind.