Our Mosaic

What becomes of us now then?
Now that the lines have got all blurry.
Now that my toothbrush lives
on your bathroom counter
and all the broken pieces are laid out
arranged and rearranged
by the conversations
held with hearts in hand
our mosaic
I don't even know what I don't even know
the tilt-o-whirl keeps on spinning even if I never catch up
The logical conclusion such a comfortable foreigner
 Speaking to me in a language I can't fathom
but have known since birth
Stop me now if I've gone too far
but you won't  and I won't
This whole thing will come crashing down
before either of us taps