I become

where your heart resonates

inside a hollow body,

and then I am an idiot child,

undone by so many simple sums

from so many single sons, and

the sounds of what you need

echo against these walls

that are all that I am.

In the trap of my fleeting sincerity

lies your consuming desire,

crudely fashioned and

unwisely fastened to

my inability to be true.