too much i obsessed
over flesh
or manner
so little i felt
through bone
or shadow
to reckon
your stare's trajectory

too much i crowded
your face
and milky knee
so little i considered
the backward tears
or numb thoughts
mobbing your mentality

a materialist i
made this chest
all surface
lidless
and strapped hard
with pearly past
concealed and buried
what would end me