death of dignity for the love of privacy
death of privacy for the love of self

waiting on that something
waiting on that someone

please sleep softly

these tiny speakers,
i listen to lies seep out of their pores and voices of old lovers who haven't aged a day since i left them.
but the love grew old and the songs got dated.
i stopped going out on dates.
now i wait patiently for fleeting moments and stares exchanged to decide the premise of new lovers. they come and go. i go and come.
i generally go too much, can't say i don't like it.
together they make sense. they help me make sense of foot steps i try and trace backwards with the thought of forward motion.

south of the equator
lies decoded
beauty abrupt yet stunning
silence amidst city breaths.

in a city
people like you exist.
you do.

most times it's just dust and clouds.

birth and babies and birthdays
and cake and parties

and getting older
maybe just old.

everyone who pretended.