progression
I feel like broken glass and split lips. I feel like I am breaking glass and splitting lips. The house is dark and the sounds would break the walls if they were glass. If the sounds were glass, they would split lips. If glass built the walls, it would be dark like the house. When my lips split, I will sweep my hands along the sidewalk and spit the blood on the cement. As the cement bleeds, the sounds of the glass walls shattering will darken the sky. This civil twilight is a glass at my lips: I will get drunk with the summer nights.