(it will not be enough)
But I will settle for being right
A spell to be cast or for it to be broken?
At the very last some wild ghost from my past come to split me wide open?
Can we hold out for summer again?
Will we ever be whole again?
And they come to me now though I dismembered my phone
Occam shave me down to primal truth— return me to the womb
Is it your face or mine?