We did a lot in the name of preservation holding hearts
In hooks for hands after the accident metal on skin,
Cool to the touch in the absence phantom sinews
Flashing undetected dots and dashes
I wasn’t sure if you were ready to be bold
Let’s regrow your hair and I will cut mine closecropped to the skull
We’ll keep the ones turned grey by the blindwhite blast of a bitter cold
Of a bad winter of a long year that really took hold
Had to cut away the parts the claws would not release,
Then we kept going
You and me are not evergreen you
And me were not built to be