[response to “Residue“]
Then, when digested masks settle,
a dish of custard
. reveals my shortcomings
(though I wish they were long goings).
. The man waving from everywhere I never expected
sent it over.
A crack in the surface stares back.
. No accident, no consequence.
Just damaged by a teaspoon that never said yes.
. Break me. It’s the second law,
Melting like reason into nothingness.
[read the response: “// The Law of Second //”]