Although I’m Dust

[vagabond]

Although I’m Dust

We held hands and I kissed her 

for a second time, untouched. 

I scribbled some sad word  

onto the side of her face 

which she mistakenly took as a compliment.

  

And then and there,  

outside of her,  

outside of o-me-o-my, 

I took a knife to love’s system of signs. 

 

—Help me cut through this thing, 

this simple little thing. 

She couldn’t do it; 

but my, she sure was pretty.  

[cymbal crash] 

i don´t know if this wants a comment but am ignoring that thought.
"knife" makes many things possible..  rape, murder, suicide. or simply giving up.
the little thing.. would seem to me it´s a heart.
i love the phrase "system of signs" because it´s often true, things make a special sense for a while, even if those signs turn out to be delusional.