I’ve got your tears in my hands
and no where to put them
I’ve got no space left for
boxes of old memories
in this corner room
in the maybes and
in between the
shallow mes.
oh, what kind of world is this
that lets me be here
anymore, any less.
my intent is too
two of yours
for ten of mine.
try me, I’m a fair
trader of spices
and souls.
