ticking time as scissors

Slicing through Flesh:

October Sky radiates heat— 

bubbling out of the Pot

I am who I Am but

Am not what I thought;

Why she thought he was lovely:

his Lovely was rot

(he does not know) why is;

it’s here? that feeling of falling short or:

The head of October burning his flesh

for he is who I am (but does not)

For his heart wants—

(But his heart cannot)