paper clip

if i could take a paper clip to your hazy grey eye, or is it blue? i can’t tell in this light- this dream’s in black and white, and slip it over the corners of all those days cupped into your vision like water in your hands, unable to contain or remain, are they pages or lives? – i can’t tell or never will, where even the birds have strangled their songs, clipped their own wings, and granite has taken root and spreads across the sky, where you and i both know the breeze is not the same, neither the rains, how they’ve shamed, taking on the city’s tears whose poison floats back and forth from what has spilled between heaven and earth for all these years, i’d mark the pages where you loved best for sun on rainy days.