People don’t change.
I know this because:
1. I’ve known you for forever
and a day
and
2. your eyes still smolder like water over flames
and
3. the warmth of dying embers still freezes me to the bone.

But they unravel like hand knitted sweaters and like complicated algebraic expressions that sound like Mandarin to me and Spanish to you.
Layer
by
layer
inch
be
inch

you solve me like I’m an equation and I dissect you like that fetal pig we hacked into pieces last week in biology.
one) observe and describe the phenomenon that is you
with your ugly mud eyes and commonplace dark hair. the way you look at
me sometimes like I’m something to fucking pity
two) formulate a hypothesis to give reason to your almost compliments. how your
smiles make me nauseous
not love sick
three) using said hypothesis to predict how your fingers would feel intertwined with
mine
four) perform experimental tests with the purpose to
discover the pitch
of your laugh and if you can turn these scars into bright
shinning stars
conclusion) your eyes are
still the color of dirt
and your smiles still make me gag
but my hair
is groundhog
brown
and my laughs sound
like gravel
in a blender
so maybe we’re
alright.