that this is over
final words are exactly that
- final
sex and skin are licked
once more and then
- not again
a light turns off in time to catch a shoulder
exiting the door
the hollow night
mirrors the moon into rings
that stain memory, through glass eyes,
rings that stay just long enough
at the bottom
to stain a cup
with the leaves
and water
that same shoulder
once helped
to pour
No comments:
Post a Comment