the crystal bush that shatters
its fruit is myth its bark well learned
each crevice explored with
the closely melted fluid
seeps into connections
wired up constructions
that ache in the open rushing air
the kiss in the corner of the train
the near descent down a flight of stairs
moments that choose your fate
determine future patterns
we call control luck
we believe attraction
is the painting her eyes
make the next playing card
wake up and not recognised
that face worn by her new lover