by Ace Taylor
if my disease were
pronouns it’d be pendulum queer, quivering
restless I can’t—the moon making the tide high\low
too lazy to look my desire unclear
liar, practiced
convince myself I am
logic, pliable mostly unreliable hazy perception
I’d be half of me
square root of somewhere in between to some chaotic
higher power &mine is about as fluid as I am
not\rarely call ‘em they anyway
