Pellucid in deception you thread

Your calculations together in silk

Stitches.  Of every crevice in my room

You chose the ceiling of the windowsill

A fault line crossing realities.  The sun is not

Destined to rise for another 4 hours

But I am awake and dressed

4:30am in my business suit.  I don’t think 

You ever sleep, you’re relentless in

Furnishing your silvery home with more

Silver, a diaphanous mirror raging 

In your puddle of dark.  It fascinates me

A load bearing biomaterial stronger

Than steel.  I want to be a bullet when I smile,

Lethal and promising and fast. 

You weave them together in a sort 

Of tapestry, your way of justifying your future

With tragedies.  As if to remind me 

You’re not the villain in this story. 

Remember my blonde tresses, how they turned 

To gossamer with ammonia persulfate – 

There was no saviour here.  

Suddenly you’ve stopped and you’re silent.  

I begin to mourn, but then

Eight obsidian needles climb the web

Swallow the shooting star whole.