Recurring Damages

the sun before it starts to melt

This time we did not return,
like a collapsing memory
bridges burning under our feet,
concrete grass growing on our fingers,
our home
– a satellite with pseudoscience effect

This time we arrived,
at the doorstep of joy,
our membranes merging
like the sky at horizon.
With sunset bleeding on our skin,
we watched birds dying,
their feathers engulfing the only sky
above our head,
there is a sadness around 
replicating smiles,
we are manipulated,
gaslighted to think we were breathing.

This time,
we circled around our homes,
in search for the truth
and found a bird gobbling her feather,
we ate each other
like two profound lovers of cannibals.

This time we tricked each other
into believing that truth is us,
and instead of dying
we again fell for the living.


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