I wait for her all day,
until the expiration date
The books soon hit
the box of clocks
and let my explanation weigh
upon the plates and platters
made of all my bones and shadows

And all that she had shattered
knew that nothing ever really
deserved the right to matter

So as the former climbed,
I went and shook her from the latter
and she’s and I’s stopped making sense
and this and that
and where and when
because the “it” that rains
had watered down our brains