the end of a circle

you cup me in the 
cage of your hands, so
filled with authority that
sucks me dry
and 
bleeds me empty.

frameless nights introduce me
to you again
as we trudge down a road that never ends
yet never begins
forsaken by a thousand dreams
we trudge down a road that never knew my name

nor my story.


i follow your fingers,
& trace your lines of 
life and success
a palm reader's digestion
of your hundred lies
divided by me
equals one.

my fingers are frozen to 
a certain extent, nonetheless cold,
i heat up my heart,
to let my blood flow

out.


the flash of a near lighting
reminds me of our photograph 
in monochrome,
so long ago
when the rainbows appeared without rain anyway.

swinging on the other end of
life's see-saw,
i can never see your face
though i enjoy playing games

with you.