Twenty Questions and An Ode to Velvet

Empty hands tore me
slowly
I found my
ribs bend to hold
all the weight of you
All the lead that is
my soul
or
really
all the iron that is
us both
A melding mass that
concludes and
confines the spaces
between my gilded
cage
You enveloped me
Soffocating and slow
a prolonged conclusion that
easily summed means
that
your empty hands
and my collapsing
consciousness
equal
or
rather
do not equal
And we should not
be so
Empty
together