Becoming

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We are unceasingly becoming,

plucking carefully

at these lucid moments,

digesting only what belongs to us.

 

We collect conversations,

pulling the thoughts of past lovers

into our trusty dictionary,

referencing borrowed words

as our tongues carve new languages.

 

We strum on nylon chords,

manifesting an ever-lasting night,

romanticising over the mundane

till the dull blooms into crayon threads.

 

Tirelessly they weave,

marking another stitch

into our embellished hearts.

Unravel and re-route this skin,

we are fragments of ever-changing art.