I'll tell you how many times you've done it, and you know how it makes me feel.

At the first step I

counted four heads, you counted 5

in praise of you the upward

swept in places rounding

their faces in mock

precision we hold hands and

hold hands, and

you, gladly, want to share

(what I have taken from you

but a wielded sacrifice is not

a sacrifice atall though I smile

atall though we're nodding for

you’ll endure without listening,

all this repeating like counting

until we all have our numbers, crunch,

I write poetry, too