winterdecades
a cracked space i made in your mouth, so many drugs resting in your spit, the corners of your lips turned down or up according to the weather, the look in your eyes when i wake up to you and i'm choking on words because i love you.
breaking inhalations and falling off the sides.
this is happening to us, a break in the waves, the way our words sway on daggers, from warmth to comfort and back to bleeding. i speak, you speak, neither of us can hear. and all of the skies we pulled from your eyes, they polluted our seas, they've broken your tongue; you mumble, i speak, and we play stupid games on instruments made from my skin; interruptions. seconds speaking. i like to lie to you - you go along.
it was shaking - i tried to take a deep breath - straining & leather & a sickness climbing up my throat - but i couldn't let go - it was a trembling sort of fall.
she was tired; it was a little more every time - she went to close the doors and the light would be inverted, shining darker than it should have been.