It’s almost complete, the distance between falling apart,
From whispering secrets, a sequence you act nonchalant,
Like a purist in person. I told you to stop kissing my heart,
Questioned why, choking back tears, “au revoir,”
So insincere. A brassiere draped over post-traumatical scars,
And it’s worthless. Holding hands under Jupiter and Mars,
Deafening stare, kaleidoscopic, where we grew afar,
Or began growing, knowing it was doomed to begin with,
Congruent in interests, confusing indifference
With sultry disclosure, whispering secrets, a bottle of Stol’,
Acting as if you didn’t already know,
Marlboro rogue, leads in my chest, heart in my throat,
It’s okay because a month is barely a whisper,
Speaking sweet nothings with nobody to listen,
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,
Evolving into something without your permission,
Where’s the accomplice? Bonnie with a gun to their Clyde,
Are we only partners in crime when the love has subsided?
You threw me a bone, how oddly Shakespearean,
Homeopathic dosage, delirious,
Slowly becoming Romeo through the experience,
Juliet, my rose, you told me not to pick flowers for you,
To let them grow and die without interference from you,
I slowly understood what you meant, what you said,
When you blinked once and said nothing in bed,
Trojan horse Valentine’s gift, hold it close to your breast,
Let me invade you, while we both hope for the best,
How to enjoy a private dinner without making a noise,
Paris to my Helen, keep kidnapping my voice,
Cross an ocean, fight the army waiting at Troy,
Calloused rejoice, carry the spoils from my battle deployment,
Wearing a cast on the places you touched out of choice,
Colliding connection, copacetic, catharsis, caress,
Coalescing conversations under our breaths,
Touching soil under toes, label it normal behavior,
Letting out guttural moans, sultry, fluttering flavor,
It’s okay, I get it, it’s just sand in the wind,
To drinking from chalices any chance that we get,
To get lost in inebriation, just to forget,
How we treat each other when we kiss with our…
My mother once said, “My child, you love without any condition,”
A gift I admire in you; it worried her sick,
To be at arms with a love lust, gun to your neck,
Shot glass throwback, wipe off the taste from my lip,
Barely consent to this insatiable tryst,
Listening to playlists, and the rain hits our heads,
Save me a seat, musical chair gallantry version,
You were the last one standing when I asked myself,
“Who is your perfect?”
And who can touch you in ways you haven’t learned?
Also, who is the single most dangerous person?
And who gives you this doable courage?
And to that, who is the only one that can hurt it?
I’m sorry.