folly was these three (and songs)

I. exposition

in the beginning,

you flipped pages, turnstile fingers

stopping twisted words.

you gave them no power

because you had seen their sway

on other people

and you were determined not to let them be

you.

you found new ways to speak,

tiny speck of matter, your

Genesis

and you called this love,

and you didn't know any better

because when you looked up,

you were alone.

II. rising action

me: no use crying over spilled chickens.

you: I think you're mixing up your baskets.

me: do you want me to?

you: what if I told you lies?

me: you were not supposed to have use for them.

you: then why are you here?

there are too many questions

for you to answer

and some of them are your own.

III. climax

syrup poured from your mouth

I watched as the ants found it

and devoured your face.

you grinned, gaping cheeks,

you spilled coffee into the