Swallow
I forgot it was there.did you really come?I thought something was missing.or was it like all those times when I forgot
that I had dreamt of you?
the mirror told meEmpty spaces are hard to see.the blue circles under my blue eyes were drawn
in paint with perfection
there's something aboutI thought I changed the sheets already.early morning; late night, but does it matter?
and the moon is dying.
does your voice everWas it your face lying on the pillow?falter like the way nerves make my passion pale
drying out in the sun.
the glass is emptyThere is a smear where my memory should be.I can see my reflection where you were
and it wants for something.
I think I saw youThere was nothing left to sing or say with no voice.I recognize the way my face changes when
a view of you sharpens.
is it you I mourn?I stole the rain and washed it down my throat; open mouth, closed mind.or the piece of myself that was abandoned
when life began to fall?
