For some purpose, a scheme most grand

He, needing your needles now, whispers your alias

Loving only his broken-record voice

Revolutions — he cannot keep count anymore

I, with clean heart and tear-stained kitchen floors, no longer live to hear

My blessed middle name upon an Imposter’s lips

You and I, givers

Pawns in a taker’s desperate game

May you win with me

Giving Flowers

Just past the window pane
In the peripheral there
The delivery man with the great gift
Was she giving, getting flowers again?
I wholly hoped the proud bouquet
Would head my way
But I knew
They were destined for elsewhere
The good news-bearer learned
What I've known
The girl next door's almost never home