Dismantled

I wanted to be dismantled, rebooted because I was wearing antlers unsuited to my station and your situation, but it was more than flirt or infatuation.

I will never see again in your eyes, I will never see again in your eyes why I want to be dismantled by the way I was almost mishandled by you.

You said then ‘Change is good,’ and I know (even knew it twenty years ago) that everything breaks down, like we, to shatter in jagged shards I see.

I will never see again in your eyes, I will never see again in your eyes why I want to be dismantled by the way I was almost mishandled by you.

I’m projecting your trajectory up-sell from Faneuil Hall to a press-pool in Brussels.
Even with the present disruptions, I still look back there for something.

I will never see again in your eyes, I will never see again in your eyes why I want to be dismantled by the way I was almost mishandled by you.

I will never see heaven again in your eyes, I’ll never be reflected again in your eyes.
Why did I want to be dismantled?
By the way, it’s my way, to have mishandled you.

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