You looked at me like that
on a porch, in a car, from a distance,
at an institution for higher learning,
looked through me to the back of my skull
at the bruise marks my brain left
when we halted to a stop.
You pierced me like that
in a hallway scholars walk, to celebrate
knowledge and the fattest brains.
Mine turned to mish-mash and fell
from my mouth and we parted,
uncertain, unblinking, bruised.
You and I never made much sense
but then, love never does.
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