to play a game is to simply look into a void I need
    to limit the amount my eyes (or else the world’s
            but a buttercream) I dream I dream in pixels
            nostalgia of many Midgars transformed in what to partake
but all these riches of revolution memory is a waterfall
rushing headfirst cold into pointy rocks I wanted to forget this good
            game with you knowing neither of us could afford the new

(originally published in Marias & Sampaguitas, Summer 2021)