My tall claims are AI ASMR
Sand, clay, and cloud.
Since when does my sadness have teeth?
Lately,
This city roof leaks as much as the one I've left
Nothing has resolved. My eyes are still shut.
The home you leave, untouched,
What happens to it?
My tall claims of fixing it all
Are lying naked.
I impose all my darkness
Onto the one I've just met.