Feeling like the wasted yoke of an egg
spilling out into the pan.
For all of my faults and for all that I’ve tried,
it seems I’ve done all that I can.
How did it come to this?
It will take us some time to understand.
We were on our last print when the ink ran out,
you took “that tone” with me and I jammed.
Sometimes the camera captures the things
that the brain ignores,
I’m skipping needles over moments in which we were happy:
the moments that Desertion applauds.