How distant must a heart become
before the thrum of it fades,
and we may pretend
once and for all
that it does not sing in our chorus,
that it is shaped of
cold and dissonance,
that it bears no common weakness,
that it deserves to die.
How distant must a heart become
before the thrum of it fades,
and we may pretend
once and for all
that it does not sing in our chorus,
that it is shaped of
cold and dissonance,
that it bears no common weakness,
that it deserves to die.