Klaxon

None of the notes are right,
klaxon-redundant and boisterous as a tsunami eroding
away the isthmus between us.

Salty-Dead Sea-wishes are numerous as sound waves,
and I am traveling through your veins like waterways.

Your heart-vacuum surrounds, and I am a
ruptured eardrum, a burst blood vessel, exposed to your
Dachau-experimentations. Won’t you

scribble your excuses in the margins,
origami perfection spider webbed like cracked glass
from the collision of our intertwined gravity.

You are perfect as a heart-vacuum, as the
chemicals in my brain. Tone-deaf excuses erode
away the isthmus between us, erode us away as klaxon-redundant
cries pierce our hands and feet.

None of this is right, as our orbits align and
we swing together, star-crossed, in
an interstellar foxtrot, savoring the moment on eager taste buds.