Particle Bombardment Leaves Subatomic Scars

You walked out with barely a glance, muttering my name with hesitation
taking with you all the silent appeal of long glances and concealed intent,
smiling with the light of the youth I had forgotten, voice sweetened
with refined sugar and tooth-whitening paste, half-formed ideas
littered around your head like my bedroom floor, a labyrinth
of discarded skins and a maze of mania, my face hangs like a door frame
unable to process the regrets that have hardly boiled to the surface
unknown affairs heavy in the air, codes and signals and crimson flags
and nothing to show for all this angst but for the crumpled raffle tickets.

A crucible bubbles in my shrinking chest, indigestion and infestation
rattled by a rat nest backyard shed made from rust and iron and spite,
I resumed my contemplation of nothing and nowhere, dislocated
and percolating like a volcano, roiling discreetly and falling completely
I looked upon you like a sign from the divine, a message from on high
only scattered when the mirror shattered and I beheld myself in truth.

You have my number, you have my cash, you saved me at the very last
as my heart paused and my head crashed and my sight went black
you rebooted my brain with an electric jolt, a word never heard
and a thought never spoken, just wordless eyes and sweet surprise
you’re gone, I’m forgotten, and everything is as it should be.

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