Sunday, July 19, 2015

Aftermath

In the wake of our bodies seperating from one another
bridging your heart to mine beginning with a pelvis.
Beginning with a word.
A story of words
 like bombs waiting for the ground,
remember the way your dream folded into mine perfectly
especially at the hip.
As I spilled to the floor from your bed
slipped my arm from under the small of your back
I prayed that you would remain silent, still, and lifeless.
I prayed that you would not miss me.
That your shoulders would not be weighed down
carrying
everything from last night in to this morning.
What a beautiful morning.
What a beautiful death.

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