un-serendipitous flaws

There’s a murder on my fingertips
and a story in your eyes
a re-imagining of the perfect day
we never had

Because life is a fishbowl
and we are not astronauts
breaking through the glass ceiling
of our lives

Even documentaries have an ending

But this story never ends
when our minds keep ticking
after the present has passed into memory
my violence erupting
as your romanticisims seep through your pores
the way it does for lovers and artists

And there are days when I feel like neither
with a murder on my fingertips
and a fiction in your eyes
of that perfect day I long to kill
because perfection is better when it’s dead

I’d rather leave love to chance

© Indie Adams 2014