i, you, chemica

it's a busy city, it's a tectonic lung, it's a scrap heart, it's a strikeout, it's a metal thunderhead.

it is tin foil, it is loud, it is fish guts, it is muted beneath the hour hand.

it was a question, it was low flight, it was mud in my eyes.

(snake eyes, o lover in hungers)

it has been home.